-field 


Selections  from 


Quien  Dalle's  Qaltl-^ie 


BY  REV.  R.  W.  BIGHAM, 

Of  the  North  Georgia  Conference.    Author  of  ''Vinuy  Leal's  Trip  to  the  Golden  Shore.' 


Introduction  by  A.  G.  Haygood,  D.D.,  LL.D. 

OF   THE 

UN1V£.;<S!TY 


Nashville  : 

Southern   Methodist   Publishing  House. 
1SSG, 


~ 


EDITOR'S   NOTE. 

THE  "California  Gold-field  Scenes"  will  give  many 
pleasant  hours  to  the  traveler  by  land  or  sea.  The  Au 
thor's  style  is  peculiar,  but  it  was  inspired  by  his  surround 
ings  in  the  strange  and  marvelous  country  that  has  opened 
many  new  chapters  in  the  history  of  the  world.  There  are 
no  dull  descriptions,  no  tedious  notes  of  travel,  no  weari 
some  reflections.  Every  thought  is  fresh  and  bright  and 
new,  and  as  striking  as  the  scenery  depicted  in  the  volume. 
Young  readers  will  be  amused  and  instructed,  and'those  of 
more  matured  experience  will  recognize  the  thrilling 
power  of  the  Author's  pen. 

W.  P.  HARRISON, 

Nashville,  April,  1886.  Book  Editor. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1886, 

BY  THE  BOOK  AGKNT.S  OF  THK  MKTHOIHST  KPISCOPAJ.  CHURCH,  SOUTH, 

in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 

(2) 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 


INTRODUCTION 5 

CHAPTER  I.— A  Wail  Shriller  than  the  Storm's 9 

CHAPTER  II.— His  Jeweled  Fingers  Pressed  the  Harp.  14 

CHAPTER  III. — If  Leina  were  Here 20 

CHAPTER  IV.— You  Trample  Fragments  of  Gold 2G 

CHAPTER  V.— As  Though  Furies  were  in  Them 82 

CHAPTER  VI.— Heart  Yearned  for  the  Rifles  to  Hush.  41 

CHAPTER  VII.— The  Dead  Man's  Ghost 48 

CHAPTER  VIII.— Gratingly  Athwart  the  Peak's  Face.  56 

CHAPTER  IX.— He'll  Leap,  Leap— Lost! G7 

CHAPTER  X.— Miriam  Thinks,  Yes! 72 

CHAPTER  XL— The  Plaza  D' Armas  Quivers 80 

CHAPTER  XII.— Pike— That  Echo  Rehearses  with  a 

Music  so  Strange 91 

CHAPTER  XI II.— Phantom  or  no  Phantom,  he  shall 

not  Die  in  the  Cold 104 

CHAPTER  XIV.— He's  Follerin'  Sattan 115 

CHAPTER  XV. — Snow-balling  with  Snow-clouds 119 

CHAPTER  XVI. — That  Lion  were  a  Girl-lion 125 

CHAPTER  XVII.— In  a  Tangle  of  Dream— I  must  See 

that  River  of  Stone 130 

CHAPTER  XVIII.— Tangled  in  the  Coral  Reefs -'Cept 

She 's  Possesst  o'  Sattan 141 

(3) 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XIX. — The  Gleaming  Blade  of  his  Naked 

Bowie 147 

CHAPTER  XX. — O  it  was  a  Sweet,  Pure  Face ! — Every 

Thing  but  Life,  the  Dance  of  Life 154 

CHAPTER  XXI. — Dress  an  Isthmus  Monkey 164 

CHAPTER  XXII. — Out  of  which  Came  to  us  Sorrowful 

Whispers 171 

CHAPTER  XXIII.— I'm  Evermore  Kissing  Her  in  the 

Air 187 

CHAPTER  XXIV. — Dark  -eyed  Senoritas  Waiting  their 
Coming — The  Dead  One  in  the  Heart  of  the 
Flames 193 

CHAPTER  XXV. — Her  Eyes  was  Mighty  Stretch t,  an' 

Seart-like 213 

CHAPTER  XXVI. — Appeared  as  though  the  Dead 
were  Risen,  and  were  Moving,  Grouping,  Part 
ing  in  Noiseless  Awe 223 

CHAPTER  XXVII. — Bonapartean 230 

CHAPTER  XX VII I.— With  Songful  Winds  Amongst 

the  Bowing  Flowers 241 

CHAPTER  XXIX.— This  King  of  the  West— On  the 

Shape  Came  Clinging 252 

CHAPTER  XXX— Bolls  of  Bervl  and  Gold..  .  268 


INTRODUCTION. 

IT  was  years  ago  the  good  fortune  of  the 
writer  of  this  introductory  note  to  bring  to 
the  acquaintance  of  the  young  people  of  the 
firesides  and  Sunday-schools  in  the  South  a 
little  book  that  made  more  friends  than  almost 
any  other  that  has  been  issued  by  the  South 
ern  press.  "Vinny  Leal"  and  her  "Trip  to 
the  Golden  Shore"  has  held  the  fascinated 
attention  of  many  thousands.  As  the  book 
sellers  say,  "Vinny  "  had  "a  great  run,"  many 
thousand  copies  having  been  printed  and  sold. 
It  found  a  place  in  most  of  our  Sunday-school 
libraries,  and  was  read  and  read  till  worn  out. 
And  no  wonder;  for,  while  its  author  bound 
himself  by  none  of  the  conventional  rules  of 
book-making,  he  somehow  "had  a  knack"  of 
making  people  see  what  he  had  seen,  hear  what 
he  had  heard,  know  and  love  the  people  he  had 
known  and  loved.  The  writer  of  this  Intro 
duction  saw  in  the  Publishing  House  at  Nash 
ville  what  he  never  saw  elsewhere — a  printer 
break  into  tears  while  "  setting  up  copy  "  for 
"Vinny  Leal;"  and  he  confesses  to  a  similar 

(5) 


6  INTRODUCTION. 


experience  while  "reading  proof"  as  the  book 
was  "passing  through  the  press." 

The  scenes,  incidents,  narratives,  and  char 
acters  that  make  up  the  body  and  soul  of  the 
"  California  Gold-field  Scenes  "  will — if  people's 
tastes  and  dispositions  have  not  changed  very 
much  during  the  last  fifteen  years — make  for 
this  little  book  among  the  young  people  of  to 
day  fully  as  many  friends  as  learned  to  love 
"Yinny  Leal;"  while  many  who  laughed  and 
wept  with  the  saintly  maiden  long  ago  will  for 
their  own  sakes  read  what  "Quien  Sabe"  has 
to  tell  them  of  the  wonder-land  on  the  Pacific. 
And  not  a  few  of  these  children  of  1873  who 
took  delight  in  "  Vinny  Leal "  will  now  find  a 
sweeter  pleasure  in  reading  the  "California 
Gold-field  Scenes"  to  their  children  of  1886. 

The  regulation  critics  will  hardly  approve 
the  style  and  manner  of  our  author.  One 
would  be  glad  to  please  them,  if  it  did  not 
cost  too  much;  yet  their  approval  is  not 
necessary  to  the  success  or  usefulness  of  a 
book.  The  conventional  publisher's  manu 
script  "taster"  does  not  always  know  a  book 
when  he  samples  it.  The  history  of  books 
"declined  with  thanks"  by  prudent  publish 
ers  would  itself  make  a  large  and  entertaining 
—perhaps  instructive — volume.  We  may  be 


INTRODUCTION. 


sure  that  Bunyan's  "Pilgrim"  was  not  ap 
proved  when  first  he  sought  acquaintance  with 
publishers.  It  is  almost  incredible,  but  the 
informed  on  such  subjects  tell  us  that  "Bob- 
inson  Crusoe  "  was  declined  by  publisher  after 
publisher  and  returned  to  its  author.  After  a 
long  waiting  a  plucky  publisher,  who  had  little 
to  lose  by  his  venture,  braved  the  critics  and 
gave  "  Kobinson  Crusoe  "  to  type  and  leather. 
Thackeray  failed  to  find  a  publisher  of  "  Van 
ity  Fair,"  and  was  obliged  to  bring  it  out  as  a 
magazine  serial  story.  It  is  said  of  the  most 
charming  of  story-tellers  of  our  times — Hans 
Christian  Andersen — that  his  first  venture  was 
declined  by  every  publisher  in  Copenhagen. 

It  is  vain  to  criticise  the  structure  of  "  Qui- 
en  Sabe's  "  sentences,  or  the  peculiarities  of 
his  idiom;  it  is  as  irrelevant  to  measure  his 
"style"  by  the  classics  of  English  composi 
tion  as  to  test  the  merits  of  a  poem  written  in 
a  newly  invented  meter  by  the  verse  of  Virgil 
or  Pope.  Enough  for  his  purpose  he  has  of 
style;  he  makes  us  camp  with  him,  dig  gold 
with  him,  see  the  cascades  and  the  sunsets,  and 
hear  the  many  voices  of  the  day  and  night  in 
the  California  gold-fields,  as  he  saw  and  heard 
them. 

So  many  evil  things  creep  into  young  peo- 


8  INTRODUCTION 


pie's  books  nowadays  that  careful  fathers  and 
mothers  must  watch  to  see  what  manner  they 
are  of,  just  as  they  watch  new  play-fellows  and 
acquaintances.  But  they  need  not  be  afraid  of 
"  Quien  Sabe  "  and  his  friends — not  the  rough 
est  and  most  uncouth  of  them.  The  spirit  of 
the  book  is  good;  it  will  suggest  pure  thoughts 
and  inspire  noble  sentiments ;  the  gospel  is  in 
it  all,  because  pure  thoughts,  noble  senti 
ments,  and  the  living  gospel  are  in  the  author 
of  the  book,  the  Kev.  Kobert  W.  Bigham,  an 
honored  member  of  the  North  Georgia  Confer 
ence,  and  one  of  the  first  missionaries  to  the 
gold  coast  in  the  early  days  of  California. 

ATTICUS  G.  HAYGOOD. 
OXFORD,  GA. 


CAUFOBHU 


CHAPTER  I. 

A  WAIL  SHRILLER  THAN  THE  STOliM'S. 

|IFE  has  its  phantoms  that  tangle 
it  in  brambles.  Yet  the  wounds 
of  the  brambles  sometimes  im 
part  to  life  a  grace  and  a  joy  that 
painlessness  and  ease  can  never 
bestow.  So  we  will  not  dispel  the  gold-phan 
tom  because  it  enchants  and  draws  us  through 
jangles  before  admitting  us  within  the  gates 
to  see  the  castles  vanish  and  to  collect  the  few 
real  pearls  their  delusive  structures  contained. 
No  phantom  charmed  like  it.  Its  stretches  of 
thorn  are  painted  in  hues  of  beauty  and  filled 
with  songs  to  cheer  us  as  we  journey  through 
them;  and  we  almost  forget  the  cares  of  the 
way  for  the  caresses  of  the  pure,  glad  scenes 
and  sounds  it  places  among  the  brambles. 
It  pictured  life  and  riches  on  the  California 
gold-fields  so  deftly  and  thrillingly  that  infat 
uated  multitudes  gathered  there  from  all  climes 

(9) 


10  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

to  revel  in  the  witchery  of  gold.  I  went  ashore 
among  them  one  bright  morning  in  1850  on  the 
sands  of  San  Francisco. 

The  phantom's  halo  was  upon  every  thing. 
The  white-winged  gulls,  the  gleaming  atmos 
phere,  the  bluffy  columns  of  the  (golden  Gate, 
the  laughing  bay,  the  dreaming  isles,  the  misty 
brows  of  the  Coast  Kange,  the  wrinkled  prongs 
of  Mt.  Diablo,  the  excited  faces  of  the  surg 
ing  passengers — ship,  sea,  land,  sky — seemed 
tinged  with  gold.  Albeit,  the  tinge  was  all; 
itself,  the  gold,  was  far  away — snuggled,  rock- 
locked,  under  the  Sierra  snow-crags. 

Thither,  exchanging  the  scalpel  for  the  im 
plements  of  the  mineralist,  I  hurried  on  with 
the  tumultuous  throng,  and  pitched  camp  be 
neath  a  jetting  ledge  of  coarse  marble.  My 
partner  had  been  chosen  with  exceeding  care, 
I  thought — Tom  Eothleit,  an  impulsive  law 
yer,  whose  forefathers,  I  learned  from  himself, 
had  been  distinguished  for  industry.  The 
blood  certainly  had  eliminated  that  quality 
before  he  felt  its  flow  in  his  veins;  yet  he  con 
ceited  that  he  and  diligence  would  some  day 
leave  the  world  together,  so  closely  were  they 
allied.  He  was  fond  of  resting,  and  I  often 
queried,  as  the  fitful  months  grated  by,  how  he 
had  redeemed  time  from  that  loved  employ  to 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  11 

learn  to  read  and  converse  in  several  foreign 
languages,  and  to  store  his  mind  with  the  lore 
of  many  philosophies.  His  heart  too  was 
gentle  as  a  mother's,  and  David's  was  no  braver 
when  he  leaped  to  the  fray  with  the  gigantic 
hero  of  Gath. 

The  abyssmal  placer  we  mined  recoiled  from 
the  sky  down  deep  among  the  roots  of  the 
beetled  heights,  and  moaned  in  the  throes  of 
tempest  and  avalanche.  A  river  clear  as  a 
diamond  laughed  at  its  gram  features,  and 
splashed  them  with  icicles  as  it  frolicked 
through  the  storm,  and  hissed  us  with  defiant 
jeers  as  it  swirled  down  its  crabbed  channel 
toward  the  far-away  sea.  We  had  toiled  for  a 
month,  and  only  rare  pebbles  were  the  gems 
we  had  found.  But  Tom  was  persistent — per 
haps  I  should  say  sullen — and  we  widened  the 
pit,  seeking  the  golden  lead. 

The  day  was  the  drearest.  The  thunderless 
storm  shrieked  along  the  gorges,  or,  falling 
down  the  mountains  amid  floods  of  sleet,  froze 
upon  bluff  and  chasm.  I  was  prying  a  chiespa 
from  a  crevice  in  the  bed-rock  when  a  wail 
shriller  than  the  storm's  and  the  crash  of  the 
mine's  steep  bank  told  me  that  Tom  was  buried 
alive.  I  had  repeatedly  warned  him  to  quit 
gouging  about  under  there  with  his  Bowie- 


12  CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

knife,  and  to  help  scale  up  the  bed-rock  with 
a  pick;  but  he  said  the  point  of  the  pick  would 
slip  on  the  ice  and  trip  him,  and  he  could  al 
most  see  a  big  nugget,  he  thought.  So  he 
kept  on  in  his  industrious  way,  and  now  the 
catastrophe  had  him.  Not  a  motion  of  the 
debris  upon  him  guided  to  the  spot  where  he 
lay.  But  as  I  rolled  aside  bowlder  after  bowl 
der  in  frenzied  haste,  a  stranger  leaped  into 
the  pit;  and  plunging  here  and  there  in  the 
deepening  slush  we  soon  found  him,  and  ten 
derly  bore  him  to  the  camp;  for  we  thought 
he  was  dead.  It  was  only  a  few  minutes  after 
we  had  deposited  his  burly  form  near  the  fire 
when  he  revived;  and  so  nonchalant  was  his 
leisurely  yawn,  as  he  sat  up  and  glanced  at 
the  visitor  inquiringly,  that  but  for  the  huge 
bumps  upon  his  forehead  and  scalp  we  might 
have  thought  that  he  had  lain  so  still  under 
the  pebbled  debris  only  to  dupe  us  into  the 
labor  of  lifting  him  out  and  bearing  him  to 
the  camp.  He  was  several  days  in  regaining 
his  appetite,  however;  and  by  that  token,  as 
much  as  by  any  other,  I  knew  that  he  had  suf 
fered  intensely;  for  the  pleasures  of  eating 
moderately  were  known  to  him  only  when  sick 
or  through  what  he  had  read  of  and  admired 
in  the  habits  of  others.  He  had  too  a  way  of 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  13 

giving  no  signs  of  his  pains,  lest  they  should 
inflict  care  upon  others,  though  any  pain  in 
another  met  in  him  the  nicest  sympathy.  Ev 
ery  thing  we  did,  however  awkwardly,  pleased 
him.  So  we  nursed  him  anxiously  till  he  could 
straighten  himself  up  and  walk  about  the 
ledgy  placer  safely;  and  in  a  few  weeks  he 
was  as  well  as  ever. 

Our  visitor  grew  restless  when  Tom  had 
passed  the  crisis  of  his  hurt.  He  was  quite 
young,  of  slender  build,  thin,  pale,  save  now 
and  then  a  flush  clung  first  to  one  cheek  then 
to  the  other;  and  he  declined  to  share  the 
mine  with  us  on  the  plea  of  inadequate  health. 
Leaving  his  name— Hal  S. — with  us,  he  de 
parted  whither  we  knew  not,  nor  did  he  appear 
to  care. 


14  CALIFORNIA    6 'OLD-FIELD   SCKXKS. 


CHAPTER  II. 

HIS  JEWELED  FINGERS  PRESSED  THE  HAEP. 

VEN  at  that  early  period,  CaliT 
forma  was  infested  by  gamblingT 
hells  in  the  cities  of  the  valleys 
and  in  the  towns  that  grew  as 
if  by  magic  along  the  gloomy 
canons  by  which  the  mountains  were  cleft  in 
twain.  Though  sinks  of  infamy,  they  were 
usually  attractive.  Their  lights  were  brilliant, 
great  log-fires  blazed  upon  the  hearths,  choice 
lunches  lured  on  convenient  tables,  newspa 
pers  from  many  States  were  free  to  all,  music 
waltzed  through  their  aisles;  while  piles  of 
gold  and  the  courtesies  of  the  proprietors  al 
lured  to  their  deadly  circles  men  of  every 
grade  to  be  wrecked  forever.  One  of  them, 
like  an  outpost  of  Satanism,  sentineled  the 
trading-post  whither  Tom  delightedly  jour 
neyed  on  occasion  after  supplies — his  special 
ty  was  gastronomy.  I  know  not  what — his 
"  socialness,"  he  said — led  him  within  its 
doors,  whence  he  managed  to  escape  alive,  but 
just  alive,  and  how  he  could  never  tell. 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  15 

Though  often  a  bedlam,  such  a  place  was 
now  and  then  stilled  as  each  votary  of  its  mock 
ing  goddess  was  awed  by  Vesper,  and  no  sounds 
were  heard  save  the  soft  fall  of  the  cards  and 
thb  subdued  click  of  the  dice.  It  was  in  the 
silence  of  such  an  interval,  while  Tom  sat  be 
holding  the  various  groups  in  breathless  con 
test  for  the  piles  of  gold  between  them,  that 
the  notes  of  a  harp  floated  upon  the  scene. 
They  seemed  to  ravish  simultaneously  every 
ear,  to  touch  to  gentleness  each  heart;  and  aft 
er  a  short  prelude  the  sounds,  like  music  in 
ecstasy,  were  mingled  with  a  young  voice — low, 
brave,  sad — that  entranced  dealer  and  diceman 
in  mid-throw,  and  drew  all  eyes  to  the  girlish- 
looking  youth  of  nineteen  summers  as  his  jew 
eled  fingers  pressed  from  the  harp  its  utmost 
melody.  He  looked  as  though  he  was  con 
scious  of  having  stepped  from  an  Eden  into  a 
scene  where  no  fruit  pleasant  to  the  eye  or  to 
the  taste  survived,  and  was  throwing  back 
across  the  separating  gulf  he  had  just  passed 
to  the  loved  ones  he  had  left  the  last  holy  notes 
of  a  lost  heart  weeping  over  its  ruined  life. 
As  the  last  chord  of  the  song,  "The  Old  Folks 
at  Home,"  was  struck  he  leaned  the  instru 
ment  against  the  rough  column  where  he  had 
found  it,  and  stood  some  moments  contemptu- 


10  CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

ously  observing  the  scene.  Many  a  storied 
tear  had  shaded  the  eyes  of  the  hardened  sons 
of  chance  as  the  old  song's  sentiment,  like  the 
angel  of  Bethesda,  troubled  their  hearts;  and 
they  seemed  for  a  moment  to  be  dazed  by  the 
visions  of  childhood  the  song  had  recalled,  and  a 
few  of  them  went  out  of  ''the  hell "  to  return  no 
more.  But  directly  the  banker's  quiet  invita 
tions  to  the  games  were  answered  by  the  gold 
en  nuggets  upon  the  hazard  again.  And  as 
Hal,  forgetful  of  his  song,  pushed  into  the 
thick  of  the  sporting  groups  and  placed  a 
golden  eagle  upon  a  card,  old  Judge  T.,  who 
had  intently  watched  him,  said:  "So  he  falls 
—falls  this  time  forever.  He  is  a  bold,  kind, 
cultured  lad  from  a  polished  Western  home, 
and  but  lately  vowed  by  his  dead  mother's 
name  to  gamble  no  more.  What  a  vice!  Fa 
ther  living,  mother  sainted,  not  any  friend 
nor  dearest  memory  can  break  the  spell  upon 
him  now.  It  is  out  of  a  heaven  into  h — 1  the 
princely  boy  has  plunged." 

But  ere  the  Judge's  monologue  had  died 
upon  the  clinky  din  of  the  saloon,  Hal's  purse 
had  doubled  by  the  turn  of  a  card,  and  he  sat 
watching  his  alternately  increasing  and  dimin 
ishing  pile  of  gold  as  though  only  it  were 
worth  a  thought  beneath  the  studded  sky. 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  17 

While  so  absorbed  a  self-poised  miner  entered 
the  saloon  and  coolly  scanned  the  many  tables 
till  his  eye,  resting  on  Hal,  blazed  as  if  it 
would  sink  the  place  to  the  perdition  that 
names  it.  Moving  to  the  youth's  side  and 
bending  over  him,  he  quietly  said:  "Come, 
Hal;  let's  go  now.  We  have  far  to  walk 
through  the  jungle,  and  the  night  wears  away. 
Let 's  start." 

Without  lifting  his  eyes,  he  replied:  "You 
here!  Thought  you  would  not  venture  out  to 
night.  Indisposed,  you  said."  But,  pondering 
a  moment,  he  added:  "Wait  till  I  play  one 
more  game,  then  I  '11  go." 

The  miner  looked  ruefully  upon  him,  but 
lounged  away  to  a  reading  group  where  Tom, 
as  it  happened,  was  remarking  the  incident. 
When  the  game  ended  he  returned  to  Hal,  and 
pleasantly  said:  "It  was  well  played;  but 
come,  the  moon  is  hiding  behind  the  mount 
ain;  let's  go  tentward." 

Hal  half  rose  from  his  seat,  but  quickly  sat 
down  again  as  the  tables  of  gold  swam  before 
his  eyes.  His  face  hardened  till  each  feature 
appeared  like  chiseled  marble.  Prouha's  fa 
mous  statue,  "  La  Verite  Vengeance,"  exhibits 
no  more  implacable  purpose  than  that  which 
chilled  him  to  his  place  next  the  glistening 


18  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

piles  of  gold.  The  phantom's  wand  was  upon 
him.  Its  voice  of  golden  melody  had  whis 
pered  him  into  an  ecstasy  of  hope  and  pur 
pose  to  own  the  glowy  heaps  that,  like  the 
treasures  of  enchantment,  unfolded  their  rich 
es  to  his  witched  gaze.  His  soul  now  had  nei 
ther  vision  nor  ear  nor  thought  for  any  thing 
but  gold. 

Laying  his  hand  lightly  upon  his  arm,  his 
friend  added:  "You  promised,  and  I  waited; 
come!" 

Drinking  deeply  of  a  goblet  of  brandy  by 
him,  he  replied  in  a  bitter  tone:  "I  will  not 
go.  You  vex  me;  you  do  so  incessantly.  Why 
be  so  concerned  about  me?" 

"No  wrath,  Hal;  no  wrath,"  he  answered. 
"  I  may  need  your  aid  winding  among  the  dark 
cliffs;  and  of  late  robbers  infest  the  trails,  you 
know.  I  shall  feel  greater  security  with  com 
pany." 

"Ah!"  he  retorted;  "you  afraid  of  Mexican 
outlaws,  and  among  the  first  to  scale  Chapul- 
tepec  a  few  years  ago,  held  by  their  picked 
troops?  And  I  never  heard  before  that  you 
were  wont  to  totter  from  crags.  The  grizzly 
is  not  surer  of  foot  among  his  natal  chasms. 
No ;  that 's  a  ruse.  You  have  foiled  my  gam 
ing  as  often  as  you  shall.  Go." 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  19 


''You  are  right!"  exclaimed  several  voices 
in  the  group.  "Besides,  you  have  won  heav 
ily  of  us,  and  must  give  us  a  chance  to  recover 
our  losses." 

"But,"  said  the  miner  to  him,  not  noticing 
them,  "  the  choice  to  retire  is  yours.  You  can 
return  whenever  you  will." 

The  gamblers  now  fiercely  interposed,  click 
ing  their  revolvers  in  the  miner's  face,  and  Hal, 
whose  anger  fired  as  they  threatened  his  friend, 
felled  the  bruskest  with  a  huge  nugget;  and 
Tom  leaping  to  his  help,  the  fierce  fray  of  blows, 
shots,  and  stabs  ceased  only  when  the  lights 
were  quickly  extinguished  as  the  promptest 
means  to  quell  the  frantic  melee. 


20  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


CHAPTER  III. 

IF  LEINA    WERE    HERE. 

I  HE  next  day  a  Mexican  burrero 
neared  our  camp,  picking  his  way 
carefully  through  the  rude  fis 
sure,  leading  three  donkeys — the 
head  of  one  tied  to  the  tail  of 
the  other,  each  burdened  with  a  helpless  man. 
After  the  Mexican  and  I  had  laid  the  two 
guests  upon  all  the  blankets  in  the  camp,  Tom 
said,  as  we  were  taking  him  off  his  donkey: 
"  I  know  you  think  me  a  greater  ass  than  the 
one  I  ride;  but  I  could  not  help  it."  And 
glancing  to  the  wounded  guests,  he  added: 
"  They  massed  against  them  in  the  gambling- 
hell,  and  I  tried  to  rescue." 

"You  mean  that  you  rescued!"  exclaimed 
Hal  as  he  sprung  to  his  elbow,  but  fell  as  sud 
denly  prone  again  from  utter  exhaustion. 

We  placed  Tom  upon  an  old  rubber  coat  or 
two,  and  as  we  wiped  the  gush  of  blood  from 
his  mouth  a  faint  smile  sickened  on  his  cheek, 
and  he  whispered:  "It's  nothing,  Quien;  I'll 
be  ready  for  the  mine  to-morrow." 


CALIFORNIA  GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.          21 


Albeit,  he  lay  like  the  dead  for  many  hours 
after  that.  But  his  words,  "  I  tried  to  rescue" 
and  "  It 's  nothing,"  were  the  key-notes  to  his 
character — bodied  a  spirit  that  never  faltered 
to  peril  for  the  weak  or  to  cheer  others,  what 
ever  the  torture  that  wrung  himself.  He  had 
recognized  Hal  S.  the  moment  the  harp's  notes 
had  turned  his  eyes  upon  him  in  the  saloon 
as  the  person  who  had  helped  to  extricate  him 
from  death  when  the  mine  "caved  in"  upon 
him. 

The  magic  of  the  gold-field,  two  years  be 
fore  this  incident,  had  hazed  Hal  in  an  Atlan 
tic  college  and  wafted  him  to  California,  where 
the  vice  of  cards  promptly  spunged  from  his 
heart  the  high  purposes  that  adorn  the  aver 
age  college-boy.  Dissipation  was  rapidly  min 
ing  out  his  life,  for  already  consumption  had 
paled  and  splotched  his  cheeks  when  the  fatal 
wounds  befell  him  in  the  gambling  rencoun 
ter. 

One  night  as  we  nursed  him  he  grew  colder 
and  clammier,  and  weak  to  extremity,  despite 
every  care ;  and  he  whispered  to  us  eagerly  in 
a  rhapsodic  way:  "You  can't — help — me  out 
— of — this.  It  is  death.  Van  often  warned 
me— of— it;  warned — me  that — sin  and — life 
—are  too  unlike  to  abide  long  together,  in  me 


22  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


—at — least;  and  there  is  no — help — for  me — • 
now,?1 

The  sounds  that  phrased  the  last  several 
words  were  like  one  imagines  the  tones  of  the 
soul  would  be  if  it  were  bruised  into  sobs. 
And  he  lay  very  still,  looking  from  face  to 
face  as  if  to  catch  a  gleam  of  hope  from  one 
or  another.  But  he  closed  his  eyes  as  though 
our  despairful  looks  made  gloomier  his  drear 
wretchedness.  Presently  he  said:  "  The  shad 
ow  on  the  silent  river  darkens — now,  and — in 
its — awful  hush — of  —  life — no  sweet  —  note 
comes — -to  —  cheer  —  me  in  the — thickening 
dark."  And  his  eyes  widened  as  he  sighed 
out  the  words,  and  were  dimmed  too  as  if  life 
were  just  then  gone;  but  it  was  not,  for  he 
murmured,  with  long  pauses  between  the  words : 
"Innocence  is  peace;  but  crime — it  makes  life 
a  tangle-wild  of  thorns,  and  infuses  death  with 
the  bitterness  of  hopeless  remorse." 

His  cold  lips  scarcely  moved,  yet  his  words 
echoed  in  the  ear  definitely,  though  whispered 
softly  almost  as  a  flutter  of  the  death-angel. 
He  said:  "How  fatal  the  arrows  that  bowman 
sin  doth  shoot!  They  wound  to  death  quickly 
body  and  soul.  Soul!  What  is  soul?  Thought's 
fountain,  passion's  electric  sky,  the  likeness  of 
God.  The  angels  shivered  at  sight  of  the  an- 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  23 

guish  the  pure  Christ  suffered  to  save  it.  But 
I,  frenzied  with  gambling  and  brandy,  have 
deemed  it  a  trifle;  mocked  its  upward  long 
ings;  maddened  it  with  a  life  of  guilt  till,  on 
eager  wing,  it  is  flitting  away  forever — I  know 
not  whither." 

Then  he  lay  so  motionless  we  thought  he  was 
dead.  We  could  not  see  nor  hear  him  breathe. 
But  only  the  angel  of  sleep  had  touched  him; 
yet  we  were  conscious  that  a  soul  was  disen 
tangling  itself  from  the  ruins  of  its  earth- 
home.  The  moon  had  dipped  below  the  ho 
rizon,  the  skies  had  pulled  thick  vapors  between 
them  and  the  scene,  and  from  the  darkness  of 
the  chasm  gusts  of  wind  leaped  about  us  as 
we  kept  vigil  by  the  dying  youth.  The  day 
broke  and  shed  upon  the  crags  its  pale  light, 
and  brighter  grew  coming  dawn  to  us,  tinting 
and  waking  up  all  nature,  and  floated  into  the 
tent  and  fell  about  the  dying  one.  It  seemed 
— the  voice  of  the  light,  was  it? — to  say  some 
thing  to  his  soul  that  startled  and  amazed  it. 
For  his  eyes  opened  wide  and  wandered  sol 
emnly,  intently  from  space  to  space,  while 
tears  and  smiles  joyfully  commingled.  Tom 
bent  toward  him,  and  asked,  "  What  is  it,  Hal  ?  " 

"My  mother,  Tom,"  he  answered;  "  my  mel 
ody-voiced  mother,  who  died  a  year  ago^  She 


24  CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

was  here  a  moment  ago.  I  felt  her  hand  upon 
my  brow  as  it  was  wont  to  rest  there,  Tom, 
when  I  was  a  child.  And  her  loving  lips  sung 
her  favorite  hymn — 

Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea, 

But  that  Christ's  blood  was  shed  for  me. 

Ha!  here  again?  Mother!  Hist!  she  sings." 
And  wistfully,  attently  listening,  as  if  catch 
ing  with  the  heart  syllabled  mercy,  each  death- 
line  on  his  cold  face  lit  with  joy,  he  whis 
pered: 

'Just  as  I  am,  and  waiting  not 
To  rid  my  soul  of  one  dark  hlot. 
To  thee  whose  blood  can  cleanse  each  spot, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come,  I  come!' 

Precious  blood  shed  for — me!  .  Saved,  saved 
by  my  mother's  Christ.  Praise!" 

And  his  face  was  a  vision  of  rapture  as  he 
turned,  gasped,  and  was  dead.  Our  reveren 
tial  posture  was  not  changed,  for  we  had  knelt 
beside  him  as  he  died,  till  Tom  said:  "If  Le- 
ina  were  here  she  would  say,  *  Thank  God!' 
and  I  will  say  it  for  her.  The  mercy  he  sought 
day  and  night  this  painful  month  came  to  him, 
but  at  hell's  margin." 

We  were  sacredly  affected  by  Tom's  words, 
but  could  not  help  the  trill  of  amusement  that 
mingled  with  our  shock  of  awe  at  his  emphatic 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.          25 


caution  in  giving  thanks.  We  often  noticed 
that  he  always  liked  to  have  his  wife  between 
him  and  the  Great  White  Throne.  The  brave, 
warm,  large  heart  felt  safest  that  way.  He 
knew  that  the  throne  had  no  controversy  with 
her;  that  she  was  secure  in  its  presence.  But 
himself?  Well,  the  readers  can  see  him  for 
themselves,  for  he  was  sincere  and  true  as  light 
is  bright. 

Life  has  its  mysteries;  death  his.  And  this 
was  strange  to  me — the  dying  young  man's  de 
spair  for  a  ruined  life,  wrapped  in  the  death- 
sleep,  awakened  by  whom?  His  mother,  he 
said,  who  had  died  a  year  before  across  the 
continent,  and  hymned  to  him  of  Jesus  in  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  as  he  bordered 
hell  till  in  the  triumph  of  hope  and  peace  he 
escaped  to  heaven. 

A  few  friends  gathered  from  the  canons,  and 
we  buried  him  in  a  hollow  of  the  mountains 
where  the  attrition  of  ages  may  cover  him  deep 
er  and  deeper;  but  the  everlasting  hill  shall 
yield  him  up  when  Christ  shall  bid  him  rise. 


26  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

YOU  TEAMPLE  FRAGMENTS  OF  GOLD. 

N  those  days  persons  in  the  mines 
were  seldom  known  except  by  a 
sobriquet;  and  often  friends  met 
who  had  been  many  years  sepa 
rated  without  recognition.  But 
one  day,  when  Hal  S.'s  comrade — Van — was 
able  to  sit  up  he  caressed  a  picture,  and  said: 
"  Her  beauty  cannot  vanish.  It  derives  from 
the  heart  more  than  from  form  and  feature." 

Tom  barely  glanced  at  the  picture  before  he 
exclaimed:  "Ella  H.!  It  was  ten  years  ago 
when  I  met  her  last,  and  then  in  Berlin;  thence 
to  Borne,  she  said." 

"About  that  time,"  he  replied,  "  I  crossed  the 
Mediterranean  from  Cairo,  meeting  her  by  ar 
rangement  at  Florence;  and  amid  its  statuary 
and  paintings  she  and  I  were  made  one.  In 
our  Pennsylvania  home,  training  our  little  girl, 
she  bides  my  return  from  the  gold-fields." 

The  picture  had  revealed  them  to  each  other; 
and  in  the  light  of  its  dreamy  eyes  they  re 
membered  that  they  had  been  boys  together, 


CALIFORNIA  GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.       27 

though  more  than  a  score  of  years  had  mapped 
their  faces  with  cares  since  then.  After  this 
many  a  whimsical  tale,  sparkling  with  pranks, 
laughed  their  painful  wounds  into  health 
again.  The  crags,  the  dumb  rocks,  the  sun- 
shine  turning  "somersets"  in  the  air,  the  leap 
ing  river,  the  singing  spring,  the  whistling 
quail  in  the  jungle,  seemed  to  share  their  joy. 

What  a  blessed  elf  is  childhood!  It  is  fresh 
evermore.  While  the  wild  flowers  tangle  our 
feet  along  the  school-path  winding  among  flut 
tering  birds  and  chattering  squirrels,  it  stores 
in  the  depths  of  the  heart  soft  memories  to 
float  up  and  come  to  light  and  joy  life,  when 
hard  years  have  clustered  griefs  about  us  and 
stripped  hope  of  all  its  winsomest  myths.  No 
marvel  the  sublime  Christ  loved  to  be  in  its 
circles  with  hand  and  voice  of  blessing  only, 
and  painted  from  it  the  sheeniest,  sweetest 
picture  of  the  many  immortelles  which  illus 
trate  the  wisdom  that  comes  down  from  heaven. 

Though  separated  when  boys,  the  education 
of  Rothleit  and  Van  had  been  matured  in  the 
German  schools.  Each  had  traveled  Europe, 
and  Van  had  been  advantaged  by  a  commer 
cial  residence  of  a  few  years  at  Cairo,  the 
mart  of  the  Nile.  Yet  he  had  not  succeeded 
as  a  merchant,  and  Tom  was,  wonderful  to  tell, 


23          CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


a  self-confessed  failure  as  a  lawyer.  But  here, 
among  the  gnarled  Sierras,  Yan  had  amassed 
several  thousand  ounces  of  gold;  and  a  few 
months  after  he  and  Tom  were  thrown  togeth 
er  he  arranged  to  return  home  by  "the  next 
steamer." 

Tom's  accumulations  were  balanced  by  a 
few  penny  weights;  but,  fascinated  by  the  gold- 
phantom  still,  he  strove  to  arrest  his  friend's 
homeward  purpose.  For  he  said  to  him :  "  Why 
go  home  with  little  more  than  a  hundred  thou 
sand  dollars,  while  here,  wherever  you  walk, 
you  trample  fragments  of  gold  as  one  does 
granite-liags  on  the  Philadelphia  pavements? 
Wait  till  at  least  a  million  of  dollars  crumples 
in  your  pocket  as  a  bank-check." 

Van's  eye  swept  the  vast  area  of  rocks  as  he 
replied:  "Fragments  of  gold,  where?  [Here 
are  huge  jumbles  of  rocks  that  appear  to  have 
been  chipped  by  the  gods  off  a  hidden  world 
while  polishing  it  into  symmetry  and  dumped 
on  these  chasms  and  peaks;  but  the  gold?" 

" Under  them,  under  the  rocks"  said  Tom, 
"or  clasped  in  their  hearts,  are  tons  of  gold. 
The  gods  covered  it  so  as  to  test  man's  pluck. 
A  few  lucky  strokes  and  it  envelopes  him  in 
splendors  like  a  world  of  meteors." 

"That's  a  dream,"  Van  replied.    "The  gold- 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  29 

phantom  wove  it  of  gold  shreds  and  everlast 
ing  mountains  of  granite;  and  in  the  gleams 
of  the  infinitesimal  shreds  you  forget  that  the 
mountains  of  adamant  must  be  ground  into 
dust  before  the  shreds  are  yours.  Whether 
by  pearls  of  the  sea  or  gems  of  the  hills  life  is 
tissued,  it  is  brain  and  muscle  force,  irksomely 
plied,  that  weaves  the  rich  plaid.  The  castles 
that  the  gold-phantom  builds  are  beautiful, 
but  their  bright  blocks  are  only  the  jewels  of 
a  dream.  Once  as  I  journeyed  the  sea  misty 
twilight  built  upon  the  waves  a  city  of  cloud- 
palaces.  The  work  was  done  in  a  few  minutes. 
They  rose  like  magic  creations  upon  the  deep. 
Azure,  purple,  gray,  golden,  many-colored, 
they  stood  up  upon  the  sea  like  castellated 
wonders  of  materiality.  But  they  were  but 
gorgeous  vapor  molded  into  temples  and  homes, 
unique,  charming,  that  a  sigh  of  Zephyr  in  a 
moment  dissolved.  Such  castles  does  the  gold- 
phantom  build.  They  are  phantasies ;  they  pass 
away  like  the  city  of  vapors.  They  are  not 
habitable.  No  tenantry  develop  their  domains ; 
they  yield  no  rentals.  Not  a  fruit  nor  a  flower 
ripens  or  unfolds  in  their  borders.  No  child- 
voice  breaks  with  cheery  sound  upon  the  si 
lent  mystery  holding  court  there.  They  never 
echo  a  footfall,  the  merry  ring  of  laughter,  nor 


30  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

the  brawny  thud  of  labor.  They  are  exquisite 
nothings  that  shine  only  when  the  sun  —com 
mon  sense — dips  to  sleep  in  the  rustling  waves 
of  actuality.  Leave  the  phantasm.  Its  lures 
are  spread  here  upon  peak  and  plain  like  a 
sky  of  wonders,  and  many  are  the  eagles  it 
snares  till  they  pine  away  and  die.  Return  to 
the  Atlantic  Slope  with  me.  Cling  to  law.  Its 
toils  are  adapted  to  you;  those  of  mining  are 
not." 

Tom  appeared  to  be  astounded — as  he  told 
me  afterward — by  the  supreme  folly  of  the 
argument,  and  seemed  never  to  have  heard  any 
thing  so  absurd  as  the  proposal  with  which  it 
concluded;  and  said  in  reply,  in  a  sort  of  hope 
less,  jerky,  rhapsodic  way:  "Can't;  can't  think 
of  it.  Borrowed  gold  to  come  to  the  gold- 
fields;  am  borrowing  gold  to  gather  the  gold 
scattered  all  over  them  to  pay  back.  Broke ! 
Eeturn  to  the  Atlantic  States!  go  to  nothing 
with  nothing  and  be  nothing  forever!  Impos 
sible  !  Tired — of  law — to  death.  I  want  to  rest. 
It  hardens  nature.  Wrecked  a  heart  and  fort 
une  by  it — somehow.  Must  recuperate.  I 
shall  soon  '  strike  it  rich ' — unveil  a  gemmed 
vault  of  incalculable  deposits  among  these 
rocks.  Stay  with  us,  Van,  and  share  the  pro 
digious  quantity  of  gold  we  shall  gather." 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  31 

"Do,  Van,"  said  I.  "The  quantity  already 
is  1  with  a  period  preceding,  followed  by  a 
world  of  ciphers,  to  which  we  shall  soon  add, 
by  Tom's  showing,  a  Jupiter  full  of  units  on 
the  left.  Stay." 

Said  Tom,  rather  pertly,  I  thought:  "  I  dis 
covered  in  old  Zach's  Mexican  campaign  that  an 
army  surgeon  had  little  practical  sense  except 
when  extracting  bullets  from  dead  soldiers  or 
ordering  one  to  be  buried.  My  arguments  are 
unanswerable,  as  Van  knows.  We  cannot  fail 
to  unearth  a  cave  full  of  gold  in  less  than  a 
month's  time.  Van,  stay.  "We  '11  third  it  with 
you,  and  add  half  a  ton  to  your  part." 

An  incredulous  smile  rippled  Van's  face  as 
he  shook  his  head  and  discerned  how  hopeless 
the  effort  to  break  the  phantom's  spell  on  Both- 
leit. 


32  CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


CHAPTER  V. 

AS  THOUGH  FUKIES  WERE  IN  THEM. 

(HEN  morning  flooded  the  jungle 
with  light  we  watched  Van  from 
oiir  camp  climbing  along  the  ab 
rupt  face  of  the  mountain  by  the 
perilous  trail,  buoyantly  rising — 
now  visible,  now  hidden — two  thousand  feet, 
scaling  the  height,  "going  home."  An  eagle 
to  his  right  gyrated  from  a  sun-bright  crag  per 
pendicularly  up  higher  and  higher  in  the  un- 
flecked  ether  till — a  speck,  a  moment  on  quiver 
ing  poise — it  fell  spirally  down,  down,  like  a 
gray  bolt  of  shimmering  steel,  and  flashed  its 
pinions  in  our  eyes,  between  him  and  us,  as  it 
swooped  athwart  the  drear  abyss  and  perched 
upon  the  ragged  crest  of  an  opposite  crag. 
We  hailed  the  brave  bird  with  a  wild  shout, 
for  we  felt  the  fourth  of  July  leaping  from 
peak  to  peak  in  fetterless  liberty  as  its  defiant 
swoop  up,  down,  athwart  the  canon,  on  high 
again,  caught  our  eyes  and  snatched  us  to  our 
feet.  As  we  intently  watched  it,  it  dropped 
over  on  helpless  wing,  sprawling,  tumbling, 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  33 

falling  a  thousand  feet  into  the  dismal  gorge. 
The  puff  of  smoke  that  whiffed  up  just  beyond 
its  aerie  told  us  that  a  hunter  with  fatal  aim 
had  pierced  the  shining  mark.  In  a  few  mo 
ments  we  beheld  him  standing  where  the  eagle 
had  stood,  peering  into  the  abyss,  and  we  al 
most  wished  to  see  him  too  topple  from  the 
height.  But  he  cautiously  drew  away  from 
the  frightful  brink. 

Van  had  paused  on  the  farther  summit  be 
yond  the  river,  viewing  like  a  spelled  artist  the 
cragged  scenery  by  which  we  were  interlocked, 
painting  on  his  brain  each  wonder  that  nature 
here  was  lifting  to  the  clouds  upon  her  chasmed 
bosom.  He  was  obviously  aware  that  at  his 
altitude  he  appeared  like  a  dwarf  to  us,  for  he 
bent  to  the  ground  to  make  sure  to  our  sight 
his  last  salutation,  and  passed  out  of  sight  for 
ever,  we  thought,  round  the  white  dome  of  the 
snow-capped  Sierra. 

As  we  stood  gazing  toward  the  space  whence 
Van  had  disappeared,  our  attention  was  attract 
ed  by  the  sound  of  a  panther-like  tread  coining 
from  the  mouth  of  the  gloomy  rift  next  to  us. 
Presently  the  intertwining  shrubbery  noiseless 
ly  opened,  and  the  huntsman  stepped — rather 
glided — out  upon  the  narrow  plateau  we  occu 
pied.  He  greeted  us  courteously,  and  appeared 


34  CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

to  be  about  thirty  years  old.  His  bearing  be 
tokened  one  used  to  cultured  life;  yet  even  a 
casual  glance  descried  a  f ugitiveness  in  his  eye 
and  a  lynx-like  gleam  in  his  placid,  beardless 
face  that  indicated,  amid  seeming  virtues,  a 
shrewd  guile  capable  of  little  or  monstrous 
trickery.  Such  was  his  tact  and  demeanor, 
however,  that  the  unwary  would  as  soon  look 
for  poisonous  fangs  in  a  dove's  beak  as  for  el 
ements  of  the  miscreant  in  him.  He  spent  a 
chatty  hour  with  us,  and  inquired,  en  passant, 
after  Van,  stating  that  he  had  heard  that  he 
wished  to  sell  a  mining  claim;  and  he  went 
from  us  across  the  pathless  mountain  south 
ward. 

The  next  day  the  mule-back  expressman  had 
barely  left  us  to  our  "  letters  from  home  "  when 
we  were  startled  by  the  return  of  Van,  look 
ing  like  an  apparition  from  Dante's  gloomy 
hell.  His  usually  joyous,  animated  face  was 
impassive,  pale,  haggard,  drear,  hard.  His 
lips  were  compressed  as  if  his  teeth  were 
ground  into  one  another.  His  eyes  wrere 
gleamy,  dilated,  fixed,  yet  appearing  as  though 
furies  were  in  them.  His  form  at  brief  inter 
vals  shook  as  though  convulsed  by  resistless 
electric  shocks.  His  air  was  that  of  frenzied 
desolateness.  And  his  voice,  when  at  last  we 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  35 

heard  it,  was  discordant,  harsh  as  hate,  yet 
strangely  mournful.  We  grasped  his  hand, 
but  it  gave  no  return  pressure.  It  was  dry, 
hot,  nerveless.  And  he  leaned  against  the 
tent-post  like  a  form  of  marble.  He  appar 
ently  heard  nothing,  uttered  nothing,  noticed 
nothing,  replied  to  nothing;  appeared  uncon 
scious  of  creation  around,  looking  fixedly, 
fiercely  into  some  fathomless  horror  on  crea 
tion's  verge. 

To  me  the  interview  was  intolerable.  The 
picturesque  spot  whereon  we  stood,  the  song 
ful  spring  near,  the  whizzing  river;  the  gray, 
rent,  huge  rocks;  the  blue  ravines;  the  hum 
ming  forests;  the  ether-robed  mountains;  the 
majestic  heavens — every  object  seemed  to  im 
age  him  in  horror's  confounded  amaze,  and 
to  press  him  chilled  yet  afire  to  my  very 
being.  My  own  brain  began  to  seethe;  my 
teeth  clinched;  my  blood  leaped,  paused,  then 
bounded  crazily  again;  my  heart  stood  still, 
then  beat  in  convulsions;  my  senses  were 
numbed.  The  abyss,  the  eternal  hills,  the 
heavens,  whirled  around,  and,  whirling  me, 
seemed  to  totter,  topple,  tumble  together  in 
the  supernatural  gyration.  I  felt  that  my  eyes 
too  and  face  were  taking  on  that  strange  look 
like  his;  that  I  was  going  crazy,  I  almost 


36  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

shrieked  with  the  frenzy.  Had  I  been  Job  I 
could  not  have  prayed  then  for  my  friend;  had 
I  been  "a  son  of  Belial"  I  could  not  have 
cursed  his  foe.  For  my  whole  nature  seemed 
to  have  been  transmuted  into  the  condition 
of  horror  that  Van's  wrong,  whatever  it  was, 
had  thrust  upon  him. 

Hothleit  possessed  an  inexplicable  virtue; 
men  leaned  upon  him  at  once  in  trouble — they 
trusted  in  him.  He  appeared  unconscious  of 
the  quality,  yet  it  sat  as  chief  in  the  armies  of 
his  heart  till  distrust  confided  to  him  and  de 
spair  clung  to  him  with  the  sense  of  rescue 
and  relief.  Remembering  this,  I  turned  aside, 
leaving  him  alone  with  Van,  who,  I  hoped, 
would  speak  to  him  if  I  were  gone.  But  I 
paused  near — to  interfere  on  occasion — in  a 
group  of  marble  busts  chiseled  by  the  tem 
pests;  for  a  rankling  dread  that  Van  would  kill 
him  had  seized  me.  Van  soon  tossed  a  letter 
to  him,  upon  which  his  glance  had  fallen  but  a 
moment  ere  he  shook  it  from  him  as  he  would 
an  adder,  and,  with  a  fierce  exclamation,  sprung 
to  his  feet.  But  quickly  he  was  quiet  as  the 
Sea  of  Galilee  stilled  by  Jesus,  and  read  the 
letter  as  though  its  contents  were  the  veriest 
commonplace.  Lifting  his  eyes  from  it  to 
Van,  ho  said,  "There  is  some  mistake  here." 


v        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  37 

"No,"  said  Van. 

"The  statements  must  be  false;  the  letter 
may  be  a  forgery,"  he  suggested  in  slow,  calm 
tones. 

Clutching  the  letter,  he  answered  with  hiss 
ing  vehemence:  "I  tell  you  no.  By  every 
stroke  of  the  pen  I  vow  her  own  father  wrote 
it.  She  is  false.  She!" 

And  his  hand  nestled  like  lightning  on  Tom's 
breast;  and,  holding  him  off  at  arm's  length, 
his  fiendish  eye  danced  the  reveille  of  the  pit. 
But  Tom  very  quietly  said:  "Impossible. 
Think.  Her  blood  is  without  taint  as  far  back 
as  you  can  trace  it.  Indiscreet,  possibly;  not 
impure.  Van,  that 's  the  worst  of  it." 

"  But,"  replied  he,  "  at  the  trading-post  dif 
ferent  persons  from  my  section  in  the  East 
have  received  similar  statements  in  letters.  Her 
marriage  and  flight  to  Australia  are  assured." 

"Alas!"  said  Tom;  "it  is  inexplicable.  I 
do  n't  believe  it.  When  such  a  woman  is  in 
volved  it  is  wise  to  hope,  just  to  wait  time's 
light  upon  the  mystery." 

Van  gasped  and  tottered.  The  surges  of 
fiery  passions  had  stricken  him  to  the  sward 
like  lightning;  and  we  bathed  his  brow  and 
lips  that  seemed  now  sealed  forever.  The  let 
ter  that  had  met  him  at  the  trading-post  the 


38  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


day  before  and  turned  his  heart  to  flames  was 
from  his  wife's  father,  revealing  her  secret  di 
vorce,  then  marriage  and  departure  from  New 
York  for  Australia. 

It  was  a  sad  sight,  that  mad  struggle  of  the 
stricken  man  with  the  demon  insanity.  And 
one  night  as  he  raged  bitterest  in  stark  deliri 
um  the  hunter  came  again,  and  craved  lodging 
till  morning.  As  he  sat  watching  with  us  till 
a  late  hour,  we  noticed  that  when  Van  was 
wildest,  and  uttered  with  maniac  emphasis  the 
name  of  him  who  had  eloped  with  his  wife, 
a  flitting  sneer  glared  on  his  face.  And  dur 
ing  the  hours  that  he  slept  we  observed  that 
his  dark  hair  was  a  wig  that,  disheveled  in 
sleep,  betrayed  a  suit  of  auburn  hair  more 
properly  his  own.  Next  morning  he  spiced 
our  breakfast  of  quail  that  his  skilled  gunnery 
had  supplied  with  pleasant  anecdotes,  in  which 
military  phrases  were  noticeable,  and,  as  he 
bid  us  good-by,  said:  "If  Van  dies,  please 
announce  it  in  the  Sacramento  dailies.  I  will 
watch  for  it." 

For  several  days  sleep  forsook  Van's  eye 
lids.  He  was  fiercely  alive,  yet  dead  to  every 
thing  save  the  disclosure  concerning  his  wife. 
That  coiled  about  his  being  like  a  serpent  of 
fire,  wringing  him  in  its  burning  folds  till  his 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  39 


eyes  glowed  in  their  sockets  like  focused  per 
ditions.  The  thought  home  enraged  him  inde 
scribably.  Before  the  horror  befell  he  built 
upon  it  many  joyful  anticipations,  traced  to 
it  many  delightful  memories,  and  constantly 
spoke  of  it  with  exceeding  pleasure.  And  the 
bright  morning  he  parted  with  us  to  journey 
to  it  he  appeared  like  one  in  an  exultant  trance; 
but  ere  noon  had  come  he  wished  the  hours 
were  forever  that  kept  him  away  from  it. 

Home.  How  exquisitely  pleasing  the  trains 
of  feeling  that  bound  through  the  heart  when, 
among  strangers  and  distant  scenes,  the  soul 
trances  the  separating  spaces  and  rests  in  its 
borders  again,  and  breathes  the  air  and  feels 
the  sunshine  that  huzzaed  its  childhood!  But 
it  is  essential  agony  to  have  the  soul  barred 
against  those  richly  freighted  trains,  their  sig 
nals  unheeded;  their  puff,  puff  of  kindly  ap 
proach  disregarded ;  its  palace  darkened  by  the 
black  smoke  rising  from  the  heart  burning  up 
itself;  its  ears  noting  not  a  pleasant  melody  in 
all  the  joyful  sprites  that  make  home  the  mu 
sic  of  life ;  only  the  paining  chorus  of  the  fiery 
agony  is  heard  by  it  evermore — day,  night, 
rain,  shine — as  crisper  and  more  charred  the 
burning  heart  becomes.  And  this  was  Van's 
condition  now. 


40  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

We  alternated  in  watching  by  his  side,  yet 
it  was  so  often  that  our  united  strength  was 
required  to  control  him  that  one  day  we  fell 
asleep  at  the  same  time  from  insupportable 
weariness.  When  we  awoke  Van  was  gone. 
We  traced  him  to  a  huge  rock  that,  like  a 
basking  Gorgon,  stretched  boldly  out  into  the 
river,  compressing  its  floods  into  a  narrow, 
down  which  they  rushed  in  spiteful  shrieks, 
fretted  by  the  jagged  channel  into  bounding 
billows.  Opposite  the  rock's  point  grew  a  wil 
low  that  bent  over  the  rapids,  vainly  striving  to 
rest  its  quivering  boughs  upon  the  rock.  Sever 
al  branches  had  been  freshly  torn  from  it,  and 
itself  was  wet,  as  though  beast  or  man  had 
leaped  from  the  rock  into  its  slender  limbs  in  a 
wild  struggle  to  cross  the  boiling  waters,  and  had 
been  lost  in  the  attempt.  We  could  not  trace 
our  friend  from  that  spot.  From  neither  side 
did  any  foot-print  guide  away.  And  after  days 
of  painful  search  we  concluded  that  he  had  been 
beaten  to  death  by  the  maddened  rapids  upon 
their  granite  bed,  and  tossed  derisively  on  to 
the  far-off  tule-quags,  to  sleep  in  their  mystic 
imsh  forever. 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  41 


CHAPTER  VI. 

HEART  YEARNED  FOR   THE  RIFLES  TO  HUSH. 

HORTLY  after  we  had  lost  Van 
an  old  comrade  of  his  found  the 
way  to  our  placer.  I  first  beheld 
him  on  the  mine's  brink  observ 
ing  Eoth  at  work.  As  he  caught 
my  glance  he  said:  "I  would  like  to  be  his 
partner.  He  dreams  gold,  I  know,  and  be 
lieves  that  every  next  pry  of  the  pick  will 
break  into  a  tentful  of  it.' 

Roth  greeted  him  in  the  same  humor,  and 
we  sauntered  up  to  the  camp.  He  appeared 
to  have  but  one  real  anxiety — not  to  own  gold 
long.  Yet  he  labored  with  energy  for  it.  It 
obtained,  he  got  rid  of  it  with  sunny  indiffer 
ence.  He  kept  it  busy  by  "  staking, '  as  he 
called  it,  every  broken  miner  he  met;  and, 
considering  that  most  miners  kept  themselves 
broke,  he  "had  a  time  of  it."  He  spoke  Span 
ish  and  French,  and  wrote  each  accurately, 
having  been  educated  in  New  Orleans  and 
brought  into  habitual  association  with  persons 


42  CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

using  those  languages.  His  adventures  among 
the  Comanche  Indians  and  in  the  war  with 
Mexico  had  imparted  to  him  an  air  of  melan 
choly,  with  physical  and  intellectual  dash  and 
self-reliance.  A  few  weeks'  mining  on  this 
placer  made  his  pocket  very  like  our  own- 
empty — not  because  of  its  outflow,  but  for  lack 
of  inflow.  Yet  he  lounged  of  evenings  in  the 
purplish  halo  that  lolled  down  between  the 
mountains  as  carelessly  as  though  the  reverse 
was  true.  We  were  not  so  complacent,  and  I 
disturbed  the  quiet  of  the  camp  one  day  by 
announcing  the  purpose  to  take  to  the  mount 
ains  with  pick  and  pan  and  prospect  for  richer 
diggings. 

Both  only  lifted  his  eyes  above  the  distant 
snow-peaks  mournfully.  Mack,  supine  on  the 
ground,  his  head  pillowed  on  a  rock,  his  rub 
ber-booted  heels  stuck  as  high  up  a  hemlock- 
tree  as  he  could  get  them,  made  no  sign,  only 
he  puffed  a  whiff  of  smoke  sheer  up  among 
the  boughs  and  watched  it  thinning,  floating 
higher  and  vanishing  like  a  phantasy  in  thin 
air.  Then  he  whiffed  upward  other  puffs,  with 
long  pauses  between.  Presently  he  tossed  his 
pipe  after  the  smoke  and  said:  "Prospect! 
I  've  prospected  from  San  Diego  to  Yreka  and 
back  this  far.  I'm  a-weary  of  it.  I'll  wait 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  43 

here  until  a  huge  nugget  trips  me  up,  then 
I — will — pick  it  up  —  may  be,  and  be  rich 
enough  to  turn  Tom's  air-castles  into  realities 
when  he  comes  back  broke  down  and  mourn 
ful  as  that  donkey  out  there.  I  shall  wait 
here." 

"Wait!"  exclaimed  Tom.  "Wait  is  the 
thriftless  child  of  laziness,  and  industry  has 
not  the  folly  to  dally  with  it.  I  go  with  Quien." 

"You  are  a  logician,  Tom,"  rejoined  Mack. 
"Seneca  discovered  the  riches  of  poverty  in 
the  light  of  his  jeweled  table,  and,  extolling 
its  blessedness,  was  no  less  consistent  than 
you.  You  have  dinned  'wait,  -wait'  into  our 
ears  so  long  that  we  call  this  the  '  Wait  Mine.' 
And  now  you  would  have  us  think  that  they 
who  wait  are  atypic  grunts  of  humanity,  adipic 
sloughs  on  the  waves  of  progress,  'deads'  on 
the  veins  of  toil  that  thrill  the  world.  Verily, 
not  to  swear,  they  who  wait  are  pompous,  puffed, 
poor,  fond  swells,  pouring  saturnalia  upon  the 
pure  currents  of  brain  and  muscle  that  digni 
fy  man.  Beshrew  the  dank  bloats!  Rich, 
poor,  placid,  low — let  them  uncoil,  get  to  some 
thing,  prospect,  or  their  friend  Lucifer  will 
make  them  thralls  to  do  his  bidding.  But  I 
will  wait  for  all  that;  the  'Wait  Mine'  is 


44  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

As  his  cool,  tantalizing  tones  ceased  he  in 
deed  looked  like  he  would  wait  till  the  death- 
sigh  of  time.  But  presently  a  large  bear  wad 
dled  without  a  thicket,  and  ascending  a  bluff 
looked  curiously  down  at  us.  We  watched  his 
queer  observations  till  he  prowled  off  into  a 
jungly  gulch. 

"Let  him  go  prospect,"  said  Mack;"  "he  '11 
return,  for  Tom  is  the  fattest  nugget  he  can 
find.  He  will  come  back  for  him." 

He  was  barely  silent  when  the  bear  came  in 
view  again  and  squatted  on  the  bluff.  He 
stepped  into  the  tent,  passed  to  Tom  a  rifle, 
shouldered  another,  and,  nodding  to  bruin, 
they  wheeled  silently  into  the  chaparral.  They 
soon  gained  a  covert  in  fifty  paces  of  the  bear, 
who  the  next  moment  leaped  high  into  the  air 
and  fell  over  the  marble  ledge  into  the  whirl 
ing  rapids.  Only  Koth  had  fired,  had  missed 
the  mark,  and  Mack,  uttering  a  jubilant  shout, 
stood  leaning  on  his  rifle  gazing  on  the  affright 
ed  beast  as  he  struggled  in  the  fretted  current, 
and  near  the  tent  came  ashore,  disappearing  in 
the  gorge  that  here  opened  its  dark  mouth  to 
the  tortured  floods.  When  they  had  returned, 
Both  said  to  Mack:  "Why  didn't  you  shoot 
him  as  he  was  swimming?  You  had  a  dozen 
opportunities  ere  he  was  beyond  bullet- range." 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.          45 

"I  know  it,"  Mack  replied;  "but  I  could 
not  shoot.  When  I  was  a  boy  I  went  with 
some  Texan  Bangers  to  flush  a  band  of  Co- 
manches.  They  ambuscaded  us.  The  two 
soldiers  who  escaped  the  massacre  with  me 
were  slain  the  following  night  as  we  huddled 
around  a  few  coals  in  a  tempest.  I  again  es 
caped  in  the  thicket.  The  next  day,  worn, 
weary,  fevered,  hungry,  I  stood,  as  the  sun  was 
setting,  upon  a  bluff  washed  by  a  swollen  river. 
It  had  stormed  all  the  day.  As  I  looked  up 
and  down  the  stream  to  detect  some  means  of 
crossing,  a  volley  of  bullets  whistled  by  my 
head  and  heart.  I  leaped  far  out  into  the 
rushing  flood,  and  swam  and  dived  and  plunged 
amid  bullets  and  arrows  to  the  flat  swamp  op 
posite.  How  my  heart  yearned  for  the  rifles 
to  hush,  for  the  arrows  to  whiz  no  more! 
When  the  bear  turned  his  somersault  into  the 
river,  I  remembered  that  incident.  How  could 
I  shoot  him?  I  felt  that  he  was  me  scring 
ing,  plunging  in  the  water  with  a  heart-wail 
for  life.  About  midnight  a  sense  of  safety 
came  over  me,  and  I  stopped  in  the  darkness, 
stood  upon  my  head,  walked  upon  my  hands, 
feet  up,  and  played  *  turn  the  wheel '  in  the 
young  cane,  and  wished  to  yell  with  delight  at 
my  escape.  But  a  racket  to  the  right  scared 


46  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

me,  and  I  glided  on  till  daylight  showed  me 
the  plains.  I  had  scarcely  entered  upon  them 
when  I  heard  my  father's  whistle  of  danger  in 
a  ravine.  I  fled  toward  it  as  a  bullet  cut 
the  grass  under  my  feet.  Then  another  rifle 
cracked,  and  I  heard  a  groan  near  me,  and 
glancing  back  saw  a  Comanche  rising  and  fall 
ing,  but  he  was  still  ere  I  reached  my  father, 
whose  aim  had  been  sure.  Bruin  is  safe.  I 
rejoice  with  him.  And  Both,  when  you  fight 
a  duel — that  men  about  your  caliber  are  some 
times  not  wise  enough  to  avoid — see  that  your 
enemy  is  as  good  a  shot  as  yourself;  then  nei 
ther  will  spill  blood.  You  missed  the  bear  a 
a  foot  or  two  at  least.  I  was  sure  you  would 
do  so  when  I  nudged  you  as  you  were  aim- 
ing." 

*'So  you  jostled  me  as  I  shot  of  pur 
pose,"  laughed  Tom;  "I  thought  so  at  the 
time." 

"Yes;  and  huzzaed  when  your  bullet  flat 
tened  on  a  rock  to  the  bear's  right,"  replied 
Mack. 

The  next  day  Both  and  I,  with  a  brown  don 
key,  were  threading  a  rough-visaged  route 
prospecting.  Summits  conic,  truncated,  sym 
metrical,  ragged;  snow-crowned  peak  kings 
that  the  shocks  of  many  seasons  had  not  dis- 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  47 

crowned,  with  gloomful  abysses  between,  and 
vast  shadows  lengthening,  widening,  darken 
ing  about  them  like  mystic  creations,  mar 
shaled  about  our  pathless  course. 


4.8  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    DEAD    MAN'S   GHOST. 

HE  third  week  of  our  prospect 
ing  trip  brought  us — many  miles 
from  our  starting-point — high  up 
on  Dead  Man's  Creek  that  pushed 
its  snow  floods  in  leaps  from 
ledge  to  chasm,  over  bowlder  and  pebbled  chan 
nel,  in  shout  and  hiss,  and  murmur  and  splash, 
as  though  a  regiment  of  school-boys  were  rol 
licking  in  its  pools  and  falls.  Great  rocks 
locked  to  the  bluffs  by  columnar  links  of  gran 
ite  overhung  its  depths.  And  bleak  crags 
grouped  close  about  it  whose  shadows  dark 
ened  it.  We  knew  not  that  any  one  was  in  a 
day's  journey  of  the  solitary  place,  and  we 
pitched  camp  for  the  night. 

I  was  very  tired ;  Tom  said  I  was  always  so ; 
and  he  was  very  blue.  We  sat  upon  the  bank 
thirty  feet  above  the  stream  watching  the  isin 
glass  glisten  on  the  rocky  bottom ;  and  he  was 
delighting  me,  he  thought,  by  describing  to 
me  the  hundredth  time  his  wife  and  children. 
Tom — his  namesake — he  said,  was  the  image 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  49 

of  himself;  but  I  could  see  by  the  pictures 
that  he  was  just  the  reverse — very  like  his 
mother;  and  desiring  a  change  of  subject,  I 
dropped  a  nugget,  and  managed  that  his  eye 
should  catch  its  glitter  in  the  water.  He  at 
tempted  vainly  to  make  me  see  it  too;  so  he 
scrambled  down  to  the  pool  where  it  lay  laugh- 
ling  at  its  owner;  for  the  beautiful  specimen 
was  his  own.  Many  miles  away,  and  several 
months  before,  he  had  pried  it  from  a  crevice 
and  given  it  to  me  to  keep  till  he  could  send 
it  home.  But  such  was  his  exultation  that  he 
knew  it  not.  Hope's  reactionary  gas  fairly 
sparkled  in  his  face  and  crackled  in  his  leap 
ing  voice  as  he  secured  it  and  held  it  up  for 
my  inspection. 

"I  '11  prospect  awhile,"  he  said;  and  the  rap 
id  thuds  of  the  pick  told  me  he  was  at  work 
under  the  bluff.  And  I  rejoiced  that  he  had 
found  something  else  to  do  besides  to  talk. 
He  loved  to  talk;  and  I  had  learned  to  think 
and  dream  dreams  or  make  elaborate  calcula 
tions  amid  his  most  charming  bursts  of  talk, 
not  noting  a  word  he  said.  But  it  was  all  the 
same  to  him  so  lie  talked,  for  it  never  entered 
his  mind  to  conceive  so  preposterous  a  thing 
as  that  any  one  could  be  otherwise  than  raised 
into  nearly  divine  raptures  by  the  music  and 
4 


50  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

wisdom  of  his  words.  After  awhile  I  called 
him  repeatedly,  but  could  get  nothing  of  him 
but  "wait."  So  I  concluded  to  break  up  his 
business.  A  few  yards  from  the  spot  where 
he  toiled  were  rents  in  the  bluff,  and  thrusting 
a  pole  into  one  of  them,  several  tons  of  rub 
bish  lumbered  to  the  bottom.  He  uttered  a 
wild  yell  as  the  avalanche  broke  loose,  and 
fled,  leaping  through  the  creek  as  if  an  earth 
quake  were  after  him.  I  hurried  to  the  camp 
and  busied  about  supper.  In  a  few  minutes 
he  came  to  the  camp,  and,  girding  a  blanket 
about  him,  hung  his  clothing  to  the  fire  to  dry. 
In  answer  to  my  query,  "  What 's  the  matter, 
Tom?"  he  replied:  "O  nothing!  nothing — 
much;  I  just  stepped  into  the  creek — a — lit 
tle." 

I  had  a  notion  about  the  "  just  stepped  "  and 
the  "  a— little;"  but  he  brought  to  me  his  pan, 
and  in  the  gleam  of  the  ounce  and  more  of 
gold  his  hour's  work  had  unearthed  we  forgot 
the  incident. 

That  night  the  moon  put  on  her  shiniest 
robes,  and  laughed  in  the  heavens  in  a  glee  of 
glory.  The  wilderness  was  like  a  silvery  illu 
mination.  A  wolf  now  and  then  trotted  across 
the  purple  haze  of  our  camp-fire,  and  a  fright 
ened  deer  leaped  past.  Besides  these,  nothing 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  51 

disturbed  the  splendid  solitude  save  the  moon 
beams  shattering  on  woods  and  rocks  and  the 
muffled  sighs  of  the  dreamy  wind.  True, 
Dead  Man's  Creek  murmured  in  our  ears  re 
frains  of  the  murdered  man  whose  corpse 
named  it;  but  we  transmuted  the  doleful  mel 
odies  into  golden  anthems,  and,  soothing  our 
loneliness  in  the  hopeful  chorus,  fell  asleep  to 
rhythms  of  imagination  sweeter  than  Orpheus 
struck  from  his  golden  shell.  For  fancy  whis 
pered  to  us  wonderful  things  concerning  much 
goods  laid  away  in  store  by  the  daughters  of 
gold  waiting  for  us  among  the  rocks  and  cas 
cades  under  the  bluff. 

About  midnight  Tom  awoke  me,  whispering 
in  my  ears:  "There's  the  dead  man's  ghost 
groaning  and  muttering  right  across  the  creek, 
keeping  watch  on  us." 

I  doubt  if  a  battle  of  thunder-storms  could 
have  stirred  me  sooner.  And  sure  eno.ugh, 
thirty  steps  from  us,  a  pale,  distorted  face 
glistened  beside  a  quivering  clump  of  manga- 
nite.  Presently  we  traced  the  full  outlines  of 
the  shape;  for  it  was  restless.  It  clutched  the 
air,  moaned,  gnashed  its  teeth,  but  slept  all 
the  while  it  seemed,  however  anguished,  mut 
tering  words  of  rage  and  murder.  During 
the  while  Tom  appeared  dissatisfied  with  him- 


52  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

self — uneasy — and  strolled  up  the  creek.  In 
a  few  minutes  I  saw  that  lie  had  crossed  over 
and  seated  himself  beside  the  fierce,  pale 
sleeper.  He  touched  him,  shook  him.  He, 
waking  with  a  drear  roar,  seized  him,  and  a 
wild,  struggle  to  save  life  and  to  take  it  began. 
I  knew  not  what  to  do.  Ere  I  could  possibly 
reach  the  crossing  one  or  both  would  be  dead. 
I  screamed — but  who  heard  me?  In  a  few 
moments  he  darted  to  the  precipice  with  Tom 
lifted  in  the  air  as  if  he  were  a  cork  to  hurl  him 
into  the  jaggy  chasm,  exclaiming:  "Fiend! 
fiend!  to  hell  with  you! " 

I  knew  the  voice,  and  shouted,  "Van!  " 

He  drew  back  from  the  dismal  brink,  and 
said,  "Quien." 

And  said  I — pointing  to  Eoth,  whom  he 
still  held  throttled—"  Tom." 

He  laid  him  down  tenderly,  kissed  his  ashy 
face?<  and  wrung  his  hands  in  agony  over  him. 
Hurrying  to  the  crossing,  I  soon  gained  the 
scene  of  the  rencounter;  but  they  were  gone. 
I  peeped  into  the  dank  chasm,  but  heard  noth 
ing  save  the  splash  of  the  fretted  waters.  But 
from  along  the  mountain-side  over  me  sounds 
like  staggering  footsteps  fell  upon  my  strain 
ing  ears,  and  I  sped  after  them,  thinking  that 
Van's  frenzy  had  returned,  and  that  he  was 


CALIFORNIA  GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.          53 

scaling  the  crag  with  Tom  to  hurl  him,  in 
prankish  madness,  from  its  moon-lit  height 
into  the  awful  gorge  that  yawned  at  its  base 
like  a  bottomless  hell.  Now  and  then  a  stone 
loosened  by  his  ascent  bounded  down  by  me 
ns  the  leaves  and  twigs  rustling  beneath  his 
tread  guided  my  pursuit.  Five  minutes  that 
seemed  an  hour  intervened  ere  I  overtook  him 
under  Tom's  dead-weight  pressing,  straining 
up  the  mountain ;  and,  laying  my  hand  upon 
his  shoulder,  said:  "Put  him  down,  down!" 

But  he  leaped  away  from  me  with  a  wail, 
and  with  mad  strength  and  agility  climbed  on 
up  the  crag's  face,  over  log  and  rock  and  fis 
sured  gorge.  And  still  above  and  just  beyond 
him  I  heard  the  groaning  of  a  water-fall  as  it 
fell  ceaselessly  over  a  glum  precipice,  and  its 
white  f.ace  gleamed  like  pale  death  waiting  for 
us.  I  tripped  him,  and,  as  he  rolled  twenty 
feet  down  the  steep,  wrested  Both  from  his 
eager  clutch,  and  ere  he  regained  my  side  was 
laving  his  dead  face  at  the  basin  of  the  water 
fall.  He  stood  by  me  speechless,  watched  with 
awed  eagerness  each  m'anipulation,  stooped, 
peered  into  my  eyes,  touched  the  ashy-pale 
face,  and  whispered,  "Dead?" 

"No;  not  yet,"  I  replied. 

And  silent,  quick  as  thought,  he  plunged 


54  CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

into  the  boiling  flood  with  him — across,  up,  and 
away  with  him — with  a  frantic  yell,  toward  a 
cliff  that  gleamed  like  a  grand  dome  near  the 
summit.  But  he  sunk  to  the  ground  in  a  few 
minutes,  exhausted  by  the  contrary  frenzies 
that  had  surged  in  his  soul  and  by  his  bur 
dened,  reckless  rush  up  the  height. 

I  again  knelt  over  Roth.  His  pulse  flut 
tered  and  was  still.  His  heart  trembled,  then 
went  to  sleep.  But  as  we  rubbed  and  called 
him  the  pulse  leaped  and  was  at  rest  again ;  the 
heart  throbbed,  was  lost  to  motion,  throbbed, 
throbbed,  throbbed.  Tom  sighed  and  sat  up. 
Van's  eye  danced  delightedly,  and  he  stretched 
himself  beside  him,  limber  as  a  molten  form; 
but  the  pathetic  "  Thank  God!  "  he  uttered  told 
me  he  was  in  his  right  mind. 

Koth  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  felt  his 
wet  garments,  touched  the  blood  upon  them 
softly,  inquisitively,  and  said:  "What  docs  it 
all  mean?" 

"It  means,"  I  replied,  "that  you  are  your 
self  the  stark  fool  forever,  been  fighting  'tho 
dead  man's  ghost,'  who  flitted  up  here  with 
you,  and  went  in  a-washing  with  you  as  he 
came  by  the  falls.  Couldn't  you  have  let  the 
haunt  alone?  Why  have  you  gone  over  there 
to  disturb  it?" 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  55 

A  wave  of  happy  humor  rippled  Van's  face, 
and  he  knelt  up  in  the  moonlight  by  Tom,  who, 
with  boy-like  joy,  recognized  him,  and  said: 
"  So  you  are  the  ghost.  Well,  I  was — scared  a 
— some,  I  think,  and  am  hurt  a  little;  but  it's 
nothing.  I  would  go  through  it  again  to  find 
you." 

And  so  he  would  have  done.  Indeed,  had 
he  been  Dante  among  the  infernals,  instead  of 
storing  his  brain  with  their  horrors  to  detail 
in  a  book,  he  would  have  turned  himself  into 
a  cinder  trying  to  loose  the  fired  devils. 

We  helped  him  up  the  peak  to  a  cliff  on  its 
side  that  appeared  in  the  moonshine  like  a 
castle  of  silver.  In  its  heart  was  Van's  cave, 
whither  he  was  hurrying  Tom  when  I  over 
took  him.  There  we  bestowed  him  on  a  bed 
of  grizzlies'  skins,  and,  leaving  him  asleep,  we 
walked  out  upon  the  promontory  that  jutted 
sheerly  from  the  crown  of  the  height  athwart 
an  abyss  whose  depths,  like  the  mythic  river 
of  sighs,  were  hidden  in  fathomless  dark. 


56  CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

GRATINGLY  ATHWAET  THE  PEAK'S  FACE. 

HE  scene  was  wondrous.  The  stu 
pendous  rocks;  the  zigzag  spurs 
bald,  wooded ;  the  solitary  peaks 
snow-robed  in  solemn  valleys; 
the  piled  ranges  leaning  against 
the  star-lit  horizon  drooping  its  glittering  cir 
cle  on  every  side;  the  hoarse  calls  of  the  winds; 
the  sough  of  the  vast  waste;  the  moan  of  the 
drear  abyss;  the  whispers  of  pale  ether  wor 
shiping  between  earth  and  sky,  imparted  to 
the  heart  a  delightful  awe. 

Yan  appeared  to  be  oblivious  of  the  scene, 
intent  on  peering  far  beyond.  A  river,  tossing 
its  floods  amongst  far-away  Atlantic  hills,  held 
upon  its  bosom  his  memories  and  his  dead 
hopes,  and  he  was  floating  now  upon  its  far- 
off  current.  His  heart  had  tranced  the  conti 
nent  to  swim  upon  its  waves  with  the  ghosts 
of  the  past,  and  as  one  and  another  of  them 
glided  to  the  surface  he  voiced  the  thoughts 
they  evoked. 

"Life  was  sweet  as  peace  then,"  he  said. 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  57 

"Bright  as  joy.  Hope  smiled.  Miriam  was 
the  ideal  of  loveliness;  our  little  girl  was  fair 
to  look  upon.  I  prospered.  Misfortune  befell 
in  the  course  of  years.  My  father  passed 
away;  my  mother  quickly  crossed  the  cold 
stream  after  him  to  God's  shore.  Debts  came 
to  light — mortgages  dusty  with  age.  And  to 
redeem  the  old  homestead  I  hurried  to  these 
gold-fields.  But  the  sacred  prize  is  blurred 
by  the  naked  woe  that  grew  in  its  soft  shad 
ows,  hushing  for  all  time  the  spirits  of  joy  in 
its  groves  and  halls  while  it  was  being  re 
deemed  with  gold  gathered  here.  Redeemed! 
Alas,  it  is  lost!  Not  all  the  jewels  of  the  Si 
erras  can  light  it  with  smiles  again  for  me. 
Why  did  I  come  hither?  Fatal  land,  death- 
place  of  all  sunny  dreams,  shall  I  thank  you 
for  gold?  It  is  but  fine  dust  in  the  balance 
against  the  happiness  it  costs.  Why  did  I 
come  to  thy  dizzy  heights  and  dreamy  valleys? 
Yet  these  silent  glories  have  not  injured  me. 
The  horror  was  born  elsewhere.  At  home  its 
wail  arose,  and  leaped  a  continent  to  damn  me 
while  hurrying  there  to  look  upon  the  fairest 
picture  in  all  the  world  to  me.  The  picture? 
Marred.  The  joy?  Fled.  A  life-woe  born; 
home  expunged  from  the  soul.  How?  A  heart, 
instead  of  sparkling  at  anchor  in  purity's  ha- 


58  CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

ven,  admits  a  profane  feeling  to  dally  with  her 
white  wings,  and  waft  her  out  upon  the  turbid 
sea  forbidden  to  pure  voyagers.  Can  she  be 
recalled?  The  storms  are  black  with  fury 
there.  Spirits  from  the  pit  lash  its  waters. 
In  vain  the  heart  lightens  her  load;  the  pilot, 
innocence,  is  dead.  She  becomes  stained  like 
the  billows  which  toss  her.  She  drives  with 
the  tempest  awhile.  When  she  would  return, 
there  is  no  way  back  for  her  from  the  black 
sea  she  sails.  Her  signals  of  distress  are 
mocked  by  sailors  on  that  main.  Her  lurid 
rockets,  unheeded  by  the  safe  ashore,  die  in 
the  thick  night  that  shrouds  her.  No  beacon 
on  rock  shines  for  her.  Beaten,  shivered, 
forsaken,  adrift,  in  the  swoop  of  the  storm  and 
crash  of  breakers,  she  must  sink  in  the  inky 
waters.  She  is  lost.  Only  One  is  good  enough 
to  throw  a  bow  of  promise  athwart  the  dark 
gulf,  and  great  enough  to  sail  a  life-boat  over 
its  boiling  surf  for  her  rescue.  Will  she  heed 
His  promise  and  be  found  of  him  ?  God  help 
the  poor  voyager  to  Christ  who  stoops  from 
heaven  to  hell  to 'save  a  soul!  Lost?  " 

I  stood  shivering  at  his  side,  for  he  seemed 
like  a  talking  corpse,  the  stars  bending  from 
above,  the  yawned  abyss  waked  up  from  be 
neath,  listening  to  him.  Obviously,  he  was 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.          59 

oblivious  of  me  and  of  every  object  about 
him.  His  form  was  rigid,  not  a  muscle  quiv 
ered,  and  his  wide-open  eyes  stood  still  as  his 
form,  as  his  burning  heart  dropped  out  in 
words  that  hissed  as  they  hid  in  the  pale  ether. 

"Lost,"  he  repeated.  "Who  is  lost?  A 
woman,  gentle  as  love,  trusting  as  faith,  un 
suspecting  as  hope,  beautiful  as  chastity.  She 
lost!  Damned! " 

His  voice  here  was  a  whisper;  yet  it  sounded 
to  me  like  a  lorn,  stark  shriek  leaping  over  the 
icy  Sierras  from  crag  to  cloud,  to  wilderness, 
to  plain,  to  river,  to  city;  across  continents  and 
seas — here,  there,  everywhere — seeking,  like 
zigzag  lightning,  some  certain  object  to  fall 
upon.  I  imagined  that  Miriam,  his  wife,  heard 
him  in  her  hiding-place,  and  quivered,  as  I 
did,  at  the  fiendism  that  irked  and  fired  and 
shot  out  his  last  word  like  a  hell  in  aspirate  in 
quest  of  her.  But  she  had  no  need  to  startle. 
The  heart  whose  hot  haste  projected  the  meas 
ureless  "  damn "  lodged  no  spite  for  her,  yet 
excused  her  not  while  it  pitied,  but  mourned 
her  with  a  fiery  mourning.  He  was  still  rig 
id,  save  that  his  eyes  burned  in  the  moon's 
glint  as  if  a  fury  afire  were  in  rhapsody  in 
them  as  he  continued:  "Which  is  the  perdi- 
tionable?  Man  says,  *  She  is.'  Man,  glowing 


60          CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

with  might  and  honor,  ermined  with  justice 
and  mercy,  says,  'She  is  the  damnable  one,' 
and  garlands  him  who  hurled  her  from  inno- 
cency ;  laureates  the  fiend,  but  whips  his  victim 
forth  into  night.  That's  his  justice,  honor, 
might,  mercy— -damning  the  ivronged.  Woman 
says,  *  She  it  is  who  is  perditionable,'  Woman, 
like  Christ,  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our 
infirmities,  beautiful,  brave,  loving,  who  be 
wailed  the  Christ  in  the  face  of  spiteful  hell, 
adored  at  his  tomb  almost  as  early  as  the  an 
gels,  and  acclaimed  his  resurrection  to  Eome's 
sneering  savages  and  Jerusalem's  crucifying 
ingrates— .s/nz  says  that  it  is  she  that  is  beyond 
pardon.  She  scouts  her  to  the  pit  pitilessly. 
She  assigns  her  to  eternal  scorn,  and  hisses 
her  eternally.  But  him  that  beguiled  her? 
She  smiles  on  him,  welcomes  him  to  hearth 
and  heart;  weds  him.  Hiss  him!  Why? 
What  evil  hath  lie  done?  Lured  to  perdition 
only  a  woman.  Shorn  her  of  that  grace  that 
makes  her  so  like  a  heavanly  visitant.  Crushed 
her  good  heart.  Gloomed  her  life  with  tho 
abyss's  night.  Hiss  him  for  that?  Not  so. 
Kiss  him  rather,  laud  him,  love  him,  wed  him. 
O  sweet  logic!  Heaven  for  the  devil,  hell  for 
tho  victimated  of  his  pestilent  wickedness.  O 
sweet  logic!  The  hell  of  humanity  enlarges 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  61 

its  choicest  Satan,  and  for  the  ruin  he  inflicts 
tortures  woman  with  an  infinity  of  anathema, 
and  saints  him" 

The  fierce  sneer  of  his  sentences  entered  in 
the  soul,  the  vividest  image  of  the  intense  out 
rage  perpetrated  against  the  beguiled  in  the 
given  circumstances;  an  image  that  turned 
from  her  the  merciless  hates  that  beat  her  be 
neath  the  surf — turned  them  to  their  proper 
mark,  the  inexpressible  wretch  who  pilots  her 
into  the  sea  of  shame.  They  are  7??'s,  not 
hers  —  his,  fetidest  corruption  of  humanity 
that  he  is. 

Satan  rubbed  out  the  garden  planted  by 
God.  Its  fruits  and  flowers  and  trees,  its  tree 
of  life,  at  his  touch  disappeared.  And  earth 
bristled  with  thorns  as  a  testimony  against 
him.  But  the  man  who  blurs  the  heaven  of 
woman's  heart,  and  sends  her  strangling  with 
woe  to  mate  with  fiends,  is  caressed  in  tribute 
of  his  victory,  and  welcomed  into  earth's  sa- 
credest  bowers.  Nature  cries  to  heaven  against 
the  unnatural  crime.  The  hurtling  scorn  should 
center  upon  the  brute-beast  man  instead.  It 
was  after  him  that  Van's  jagged  "damn" 
leaped.  And  the  unspeakable  pathos  of  his 
prayer  that  God  would  help  her  to  Christ  gave 
a  fury  to  the  naked  lightning  of  the  curse  upon 


62  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

him  that  flamed  like  a  bolt  of  doom.  He  had 
paused  at  the  sentence,  "  Tortures  woman  with 
an  infinity  of  anathema,  and  saints  him;"  his 
face  paler  than  the  dead,  his  haughty  form 
quivering  as  in  the  throes  of  some  tumultu 
ous  passion.  But  he  quickly  resumed,  saying: 
"Ay,  but  beast  sheltered  by  society,  your  in 
famy  tinseled  by  the  favor  of  those  who,  like 
the  goddess  truth,  should  spurn  you  farthest 
into  the  realm  of  reproach — your  sin,  yours, 
will  find  you  out.  God,  who  quietly  moves 
when  he  will  into  your  rankling  circles,  though 
panoplied  by  hosts  in  arms-  for  you,  will  crush 
you  as  though  you  and  they  were  veriest  trifles. 
It  is  the  Almighty  who  says,  'I  will  repay.' 
Your  brassy  heart,  soon  or  late,  must  ring 
wails  to  the  metal  of  his  wrath.  Two  spirits 
commune  with  me.  One  urges  to  slay,  slay 
him.  And  I  often  leap  in  sleep  to  grapple 
him,  but  to  find  it  was  only  a  phantasy  of  the 
brain  I  had  met.  To-night  I  thought  Tom 
was  he,  and  that  retributive  Nemesis  had  con 
veyed  him  to  me  that  I  should  hurl  him  into 
pitiless  death.  Why  am  I  here?  Why  not 
bounding  in  pursuit?  The  other  spirit  enticed 
me.  Its  voice  is  not  for  blood.  It  is  a  gentle 
thing,  yet  it  braves  revenge  in  his  fiercest  mood, 
and  tells  him  he  is  a  criminal  of  Satanic  hue; 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  63 

that  to  murder  is  monstrous.  In  the  haunts 
of  men  its  voice  is  smothered.  But  here, 
where  all  nature  speaks  of  God,  I  hearken  to 
its  pleadings.  Not  the  eagle  that  rends,  but 
the  dove  traversed  the  deluge  on  good  bent. 
Close  to  the  awful  waves,  adown  their  dank 
chasms,  over  their  glowering  crests,  in  the 
spray  of  their  thunders,  she  sped,  till,  finding 
the  leaf  of  peace,  she  retraced  her  brave  path 
to  the  ark  and  trustingly  fluttered  against  its 
window  for  admission  with  the  life-promise  to 
its  inmates.  So  this  gentle  spirit  has  fluttered 
about  me  in  this  horror.  It  allured  me  to 
this  wild.  It  induces  me  to  seek  rencounters 
with  beasts  instead  of  man ;  to  study  the  rocks 
and  plants;  to  hearken  to  the  stars;  to  heed 
God  in  the  tumbling  falls,  the  rustling  forests, 
the  flashing  avalanches,  the  quiet  heavens — 
ministers  of  his  that  do  his  pleasure.  What 
is  it?  It  is  gentle  as  the  angel  of  mercy,  and 
mighty.  It  trips  hell  and  hustles  it  from  the 
heart,  but  touches  each  delicate  flower  there 
into  softer,  sweeter,  lovelier  mold.  Is  it  God  ? 
It  is  oft  so  utterly  tender  that  I  think  it  is  my 
mother  come  from  the  dead  to  quell  with  her 
gentleness  the  fury  that  earth-wrongs  have 
stirred.  Do  departed  spirits  of  the  good  come 
to  earth  again,  trace  the  way  of  mortals,  min- 


64  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD   SCENES. 


ister  blessings?  Who  doubts  it  but  a  carnal- 
ist  sneering  at  divinities?  But  coining,  why 
invisible,  without  voice?  Bather,  do  we  not 
hear  them  with  the  soul,  spirit  to  spirit  heed 
ing." 

He  looked  away  to  the  farther  chasm— pale 
above  with  moonlight,  black  below  its  jungle- 
brow — up  to  the  spangled  sky,  into  the  sheer 
abyss  at  our  feet,  and  reeled  to  a  bust  of  glinty 
quarts  peeping  above  the  granite  like  a  Titan's 
head,  and  sat  upon  it.  There  was  a  crazy 
white  flame  in  his  eye  that  I  could  not  read, 
and  the  wide-eyed  stars  seemed  to  stoop  down 
to  catch  the  expression  of  his  face  and  to  shiv 
er,  hearing  words  like  fire  from  a  man  of  ice 
as  he  added:  "Yet  I  often  think  it  were  hap 
piness  to  drop  off  the  height  upon  the  rocks 
in  the  abyss's  fatal  depths.  Fearful  images 
wring  my  brain.  Vengeance  convulses  me, 
and  gloats  on  a  coming  meeting  with  him 
whose  sin,  dyed  in  woman's  heart-break,  shapes 
before  me  like  the  bolt  of  fate  to  drop  him  into 
perdition.  Blood  starts  in 'the  air,  drips  from 
my  hands,  curdles  at  my  feet." 

Here  he  sprung  to  his  feet  as  if  pierced  by 
his  last  words,  exclaiming:  "What  if  I  had 
killed  Tom  for  him  to-night?  Curse,  curse 
upon  the  serpent  who  has  crazed  me!" 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  65 

His  tones  were  jagged  and  hissing  like  hurt 
ling  aerolites  falling.  He  shuddered.  His 
face  grew  whiter  like  the  essence  of  rage. 
His  eye  gleamed  like  a  maddened  beast's.  He 
rolled  upon  the  ground  like  a  convulsed  ma 
niac.  He  screamed  in  fury,  and  frenziedly 
tore  himself.  He  leaped  away — as  if  in  pur 
suit  of  some  one — from  ledge  to  ledge,  down 
from  gorge  to  gorge,  unconscious  of  friend 
ship's  or  danger's  presence — a  poor,  wildered, 
frantic  wretch.  And  sky  and  jungle  held  their 
breath  in  an  ecstasy  of  alarm  as  the  raving 
specter  bounded  from  the  crag  into  the  shadow 
of  death. 

As  he  skipped  like  a  pale  ghost  out  into  the 
chasmy  darkness,  Tom,  drawn  to  the  spot  by 
his  mad  exclamations,  stood  on  the  verge  of 
the  promontory,  his  face  puffed  by  the  night's 
throttling.  He  leaned  over  into  the  weird 
gloom,  and  from  its  depths  a  shriek,  like  a 
tiger's  raging  scream,  leaped  up  and  passed 
gratingly  athwart  the  peak's  face,  and  died  in 
the  sky. 

"  Not  dead !  "  he  gasped.  "  Good  heavens ! 
Come."  And  adown  the  peak,  picking  the 
way  rapidly,  swinging  over  from  rock  to  rock, 
now  tumbling,  leaping  here,  sliding  there; 
hesitating  over  a  fissure,  dropping  in;  scramb- 
5 


66  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

ling  on  down,  we  were  soon  buried  in  the  abyss 
searching  everywhere  for  Van. 

The  day-break  glowed  in  the  east,  the  sun 
rise  purpled  deeper  and  deeper  the  horizon 
and  tinted  the  ice-like  skies  with  blent  pink 
and  orange;  the  fresh  airs  of  morning  trooped 
in  merry  waves  over  canon  and  cliff,  and  puffed 
refreshing  ether  into  every  thing;  star  after 
star  fell  asleep  in  the  damasked  vault;  and  full- 
orbed  day  smiled  in  heaven  and  earth  as  if 
neither  crime  nor  horror,  nor  aught  save  pu 
rity  and  peace,  had  ever  tossed  about  in  the 
lap  of  time. 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  67 


CHAPTER  IX. 

HE'LL  LEAP,  LEAP  —  LOST! 

HE  clay  passed  in  a  hapless  search 
for  Van.  So,  leaving  him  to  his 
fate,  we  built  a  brush  tent  in  a 
group  of  nutmeg-trees,  and  mined 
in  a  cramped  placer  on  the  creek. 
Several  days  had  elapsed  when,  weighing  our 
gold,  we  had  many  ounces  to  jewel  our  girdles. 
We  were  wakeful  the  following  night  with  ex 
ulting  hopes.  It  was  moonless,  but  the  stars 
held  levee,  and  we  watched  their  glittering 
ranks  arrayed  in  silvery  robes  as  they  passed 
and  greeted  and  whispered  and  danced  in  the 
firmament,  as  if  in  a  jubilee  that  restless  earth 
soothed  by  Lethe  lay  dreaming.  The  mid- 
night  hour  had  sighed  itself  away,  and  still 
we  were  awake  watching  the  pale  love-flashes 
they  exchanged,  when  a  shrill  whoop  from  far 
up  the  nodding  crag  that  slept  over  us  sprung 
us  to  our  feet;  and  we  peered  up  the  abrupt 
steep  to  detect  the  fool-hardy  adventurer  es* 
saying  its  descent.  We  could  not  distinguish 
him  from  many  a  shadowy  appearance  that 


68  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

clung  to  its  bald  bust;  but  lie  evidently  de 
scried  us  in  the  glare  of  our  camp-fire,  for  he 
saluted  our  eager  watch  with  a  succession  of 
screeching  yells  that  hideously  echoed  along 
sky  and  chasm  as  he  came  down,  down  toward 
us.  Every  few  minutes  stones  or  fragments 
of  turf  fell  from  the  gnarly  crag  into  the  mut 
tering  creek,  when  abruptly  from  a  fissure  u 
hundred  feet  above  us  a  form,  clad — save  boots 
— like  Adam  before  Eve  fig-leafed  him,  glided 
out  upon  a  buttress  and  stamped  in  madness, 
uttered  a  tempest  of  stark  screams,  and,  lean 
ing  over,  leered  down  upon  us.  The  stars 
seemed  to  float  into  groups  over  him,  and  to 
hush  their  shuddering  circles  lest  their  rust 
ling  should  startle  him.  Dead  Man's  Creek 
muffled  its  lorn  melody  till  each  note  was  a 
stifled  sob,  and  the  dark  crag  grew  black  with 
awful  horror  that  he  recked  not  the  peril. 
Tom's  ruddy  face  was  aghast  as  he  whispered: 
*  Van,  Van,  wild  as  the  fiend!  Watch.  He  '11 
leap,  leap — lost! "  And  he  glided  into  the 
crag's  shadow  like  a  speeding  specter,  and  I 
noted  him  scaling  its  steeps  toward  him. 

On  diverting  my  eye  again  to  the  buttress, 
Van  was  gone.  I  listened  for  a  gnashing  thud 
in  the  creek,  but  heard  nothing  only  Tom's  in 
cessant,  quiet  scramble  up  toward  where  he  had 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD   SCENES.  69 

stood.  While  scringing  round  a  protruding 
rock,  he  looked  aloft  and  discovered  that  he 
had  disappeared.  He  looked  down,  bent  over, 
listened,  looked  to  me.  I  motioned  him  on  up, 
and  watched  thither,  every  nerve  a  tortured 
tremor,  when,  right  at  my  ear,  pealed,  like  a 
blast  from  the  pit,  a  maniac  "  Ha,  ha,  ha!  " 

It  tore  my  bones  seemingly  out  of  my  flesh, 
and  landed  me  a  thousand  feet  from  the  spot, 
I  hoped,  but  found  that  I  had  been  so  appalled 
as  simply  to  fall  in  my  tracks.  And  the  mad 
man's  blazing  eyes  and  furious  grip  told  me 
death  was  near.  I  either  heard,  or  thought  I 
heard,  Tom's  groan  of  sympathy  from  the 
cliff's  face,  and,  like  impersoned  fear,  I  kept 
Van  too  busy  holding  me  for  any  chance  to 
strike.  About  the  first  thing  I  remember  after 
the  struggle  began  is  Tom  upon  Van's  breast 
holding  his  right-arm  and  I  kneeling  on  and 
lancing  his  left  with  dispatchful  zest;  and  I 
was  very  thankful  for  my  little  knowledge  of 
surgery.  He  bled  refreshingly  fast,  I  thought; 
and  though  his  eyes  were  like  globes  of  fire, 
and  his  struggles  fierce,  he  weakened  rapidly, 
and  was  soon  in  a  faintish  sleep,  out  of  which 
I  feared  he  would  never  awake.  We  dressed 
him  in  a  ragged  suit — best  we  had,  part  Tom's, 
part  mine— and  about  day-dawn  he  woke  up 


70  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.      - 

with  a  feeble  yawn.  His  recognition  of  us 
was  instant,  and  he  tried  to  stretch  out  his 
hand  to  greet  us,  but  was  too  faint.  He  was 
moody  at  intervals  most  of  the  day,  but  toward 
evening  he  listened  to  a  rehearsal  of  his  last 
night's  pranks  and  perils,  for  he  insisted  till 
we  told  him  the  worst;  and  ere  night  fell  we 
had  packed  him  on  the  donkey  by  a  circuitous 
route  up  to  his  cave.  He  showed  us  therein 
his  cache  of  provisions  and  gold;  and  in  the 
gloaming,  whose  soft  tints  were  nestling  in  the 
dark  between  the  crags,  we  spread  down  griz 
zlies'  skins  under  the  leafy  nutmegs  at  its 
mouth,  and  talked  by  snatches  or  dreamed 
with  open  eyes  the  balmy  hours  far  into  the 
solemn  night. 

"I  have  been  alone  here,"  he  said,  "three 
months.  The  solitaire,  as  well  as  others,  I 
find,  needs  labor  to  relieve  of  unrest.  Res 
pite  or  diversity  is  longed  for.  So  I  have 
spiced  solitude  with  toil.  It  rests  the  eye,  the 
mind,  the  muscles  even.  Sleep  is  sweeter, 
and  the  wakeful  day  looks  like  a  newer  glory, 
when  labor  makes  merry  music  for  the  throng 
ing  hours.  The  heart  wrings  out  its  sorrows, 
and  rings  in  hopes  which  delight  it  amid  the 
quiver  and  jostle  of  physical  thuds.  The 
placer  I  am  mining  is  but  a  short  distance 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  71 

above  yours,  and  I  have  gathered  among  its 
crevices  a  fraction  less  than  a  thousand  ounces. 
Unless  you  have  done  better,  you  must  mine 
with  me." 

To  this  we  acceded,  and  the  days  of  the 
following  month  were  golden  for  us.  During 
the  while  Van  was  often  restless,  took  sudden 
trips  for  days  at  a  time  into  the  sequestered 
jungle,  and  finally  became  resolute  to  voyage 
to  Australia.  Some  phantasm  on  that  distant 
shore  seemed  to  call  to  him  incessantly,  and 
the  vast  stretch  of  sea  between  appeared  at 
times  but  a  step  to  him.  And  we  remembered 
the  letters  had  said  that  thither  Miriam  had 
been  borne. 


72  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


CHAPTER  X. 

MIKIAM  THINKS,  YES! 

|E  appeared,  of  late,  to  be  haunted 
by  the  image  of  his  wife;  and 
transient  thoughts,  like  stray  rays 
from  angels,  led  him  into  glimpses 
of  hope  that  some  explanation  ex 
isted  that  would  condone  her  course  and  leave 
her  to  him  as  a  pure  memory  at  least.  It  was 
seldom,  indeed,  that  he  mentioned  the  trouble. 
But  now  and  then  he  briefly  spoke  of  it,  and 
we,  with  bated  speech,  would  suggest  the  pleas- 
antest  things  possible  germane  to  it.  And  so 
it  became  mingled  with  the  c?mp  talk  one  mid 
night  and  to  little  purpose,  except  to  make  him 
silent  for  a  long  interval  after  mentioning  it. 
In  his  silence,  sight  too  seemed  to  have  repressed 
all  her  mysteries,  and  so  to  have  hushed  them 
that  the  soft  step  of  a  beast  or  man  crept  to  us 
from  a  thicket  a  hundred  paces  distant  and  then 
was  still  so  long  we  forgot  it  and  became  en 
thralled  in  reverie.  But  out  of  the  strange 
hush* upon  every  thing  there  bounded  to  us  a 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD   SCENES.  73 

short  fierce  roar,  like  that  uttered  by  a  savage 
in  dire  rage.  It  was  followed  by  a  furious  rust 
ling  of  the  feathery  boughs  of  the  chaparral 
and  hurried  pistol-shots,  and  a  dark  body  sprung 
from  the  covert  across  a  broad  bare  rock  and  fell 
heavily  upon  the  shrubs,  thirty  feet  below  its 
brink.  In  the  instant  a  hatless  man  stepped 
to  the  rock's  edge,  and  peered  down  as  if  anx 
iously  watching  some  object.  His  form  was 
distinctly  outlined  by  the  forest  background 
and  starshine,  the  pistol  still  gleaming  in  his 
hand.  In  answer  to  our  hail,  he  said:  "It  is 
only  a  strange  animal  that  disputed  my  pas 
sage  through  the  jungle,  where  I  have  been 
wandering  all  day.  It  hurt  me  but  little,  -and 
is  past  injuring  any  one  now.  I  wish  it  had 
fled.  I  'm  sorry  I  killed  it." 

It  was  Mack  from  the  "Wait  Mine."  And 
Van,  laughing,  said:  "  Well,  I  'm  glad  it  is  quiet 
at  least,  for  its  scream  made  my  pate  grate  as 
though  some  savage  ghost  had  torn  off  its 
scalp." 

Mack  let  himself  down  the  rock's  face  by 
clinging  to  its  wrinkles,  and  we  examined  the 
symmetrical  brownish  California  lion  he  had 
slain,  while  he  related  how  fortunately  his  first 
bullet  arrested  its  arrowy  leap  upon  him,  when 
so  near  his  person  that  its  contortions  rolled 


74  CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

it  against  him  as  he  repeatedly  fired  till  it  des 
perately  plunged  from  him  over  the  rock. 

He  and  Koth  lingered  near  the  lion  when 
Van  and  I  returned  to  the  camp.  And  when 
presently  they  followed  us,  an  unusual  anima 
tion  was  noticeable  in  Both.  Mack  zestfully 
partook  of  the  supper  we  hurriedly  prepared 
for  him ;  and  leading  the  camp  chat  into  good 
news  from  home,  said  quite  naturally:  "Van, 
I  met  awhile  back  a  young  man  some  twenty 
years  old  in  San  Francisco  just  from  the  Atlan 
tic  States.  He  claims  to  be  your  brother  Will, 
and  says  that  a  letter  from  Koth  to  some  one 
near  your  home  in  the  East  had  led  him  to 
come  to  the  gold-fields  to  meet  you.  He  went 
on  to  the  trading-post  where  you  and  Both  first 
met  in  this  country,  hoping  there  to  get  tidings 
of  you.  He  said  your  wife  was  well  except 
being  heartsick  to  see  you,  and  your  little  Mir 
iam  is  as  beautiful  as  the  bird's  song  is  sweet." 

During  the  last  statement  Van  had  risen  to 
his  feet  and  had  leaned  against  the  huge  rock 
next  the  cave,  one  hand  clasping  his  heart;  and 
in  his  eyas  shone  the  eagerness  that  one  in  a 
desert  ready  to  perish  would  likely  feel  if  near 
him  living  waters  should  suddenly  murmur. 
But  Mack,  seeming  not  to  notice  the  intense 
posture,  added:  "We  arranged  a  plan  of  com- 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  75 

munication,  and  two  weeks  ago  he  had  turned 
this  way  on  Koth's  path.  He  says  all  is  well 
at  home.  The  old  place  redeemed  by  your  re 
mittances  is  all  your  own;  and  that  in  it  has 
been  waiting  and  longing  for  you,  all  the  weary 
months  of  your  absence,  as  noble  a  woman,  as 
true  a  heart  to  you,  Yan,  as  ever  pulsed  death 
less  love.  The  letters  to  parties  on  this  coast 
are  base  forgeries." 

There  Yan  stood  mute,  motionless,  slightly 
leant  toward  Mack;  only  the  flush  of  face  and 
awing  eagerness  of  his  eyes  tokened  life.  And 
Mack  continued,  his  tones  tremulous  and  clear 
with  faith's  passion  in  the  words:  "He  asked 
me  to  say  to  you,  if  I  should  meet  you  before 
he  did,  that  by  the  kindred  blood  which  warms 
his  heart,  you  may  rely  upon  this  statement  as 
pure  truth;  that  aught  adverse  to  it  is  utterly, 
utterly  false." 

There  was  a  quiver  in  Van's  frame;  he  looked 
squarely  into  Roth's  face,  now  suffused  with 
tears  as  well  as  unusual  animation,  and  the  old 
classmates  bounded  together. 

"And  that 's  not  all,  Van,"  said  Tom,  as  they 
resumed  their  places  in  the  bear-skins.  "Will 
has  married  Miriam's  sister,  and  she  and  Mir 
iam  are  in  Sacramento  with  their  father,  vow 
ing  to  kill  you  on  sight." 


76  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

"Is  it  so,  Mack?"  sharply  queried  Van. 

"  Yes,"  Mack  answered  quite  dryly,  "  except 
the  vowing." 

"  Well,"  said  Yan,  "  killing  is  a  greater  favor 
than  my  injustice  to  Miriam  merits.  But,  Tom, 
I  never  revealed  to  you  and  Quien  the  evidence 
of  the  story's  truth  that  was  to  me  the  convinc 
ing  witness.  It  is  Miriam's  own  letter  avow 
ing  the  affair  and  tearfully  resigning  to  me  our 
little  girl.  The  style  and  chirography  are  so 
entirely  her  own  that  to  doubt  its  genuineness 
never  occurred  to  me  until  now. 

The  hours  tripped  away  unnoticed,  for  we 
were  happy  in  the  peace  that  had  come  to  Yan, 
who,  in  its  quieting  melodies,  entertained  us  by 
the  rarest  conversational  powers  within  forma 
tion  and  incidents  so  foreign  to  himself  and 
scenes  about  us  that  we  forgot  that  sorrow  had 
ever  cast  a  shadow  on  his  life. 

The  morning  broke  upon  us  while  we  were 
yet  awake,  and  its  sunrise  sung  us  to  sleep. 
We  were  roused  by  an  old  pioneer  and  his 
young  comrade,  upon  whom  Yan's  eyes  rested 
with  caresses  as  he  greeted  him  with,  "God 
bless  you,  Will!" 

Will  had  collected;  at  the  trading-post  near 
our  first  mine,  two  or  three  of  the  forged  let 
ters,  and  we  compared  them  with  those  Yan 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  11 

had  cached  with  his  gold.  The  same  hand  was 
evinced  in  each,  and  those  to  ^an,  when  com 
pared  to  genuine  letters,  were  so  nearly  perfect 
imitations  that  even  the  expert  could  scarcely 
have  rejected  them. 

"  Van,"  queried  Will,  as  Van  folded  the  let 
ters  and  put  them  aside,  "  whose  treachery  is 
it?  Think  you,  brother,  that  Lieutenant  W. 
can  have  become  so  utterly  vile  as  this?  Mir 
iam  thinks,  'Yes.'  He  threatened  vengeance 
the  hour  your  marriage  in  Florence  was  known 
in  America.  Her  brother,  you  remember,  gave 
you  notice  of  it  while  you  were  yet  in.Europe." 

"  But,"  rejoined  Van,  "  he  met  us  on  our  re 
turn  with  many  pleasant  expressions  of  good 
feeMng,  and  often  as  we  were  together  nothing 
to  the  contrary  appeared.  He  removed  with 
his  large  fortune,  within  the  year,  to  his  home 
in  England,  and  I  never  heard  if  he  ever  came 
back  to  America." 

"  When  I  was  a  boy,"  said  Will,  "'I  thought 
him  glorious,  and  remember  well  his  splendid 
equipage  and  fine  person  and  manners;  his 
hazel  eyes  and  light  curly  hair,  too,  are  in 
mind.  Dr.  P.  once  berated  him  for  his 
mockery  of  the  poor,  and  said  his  heart  was  a 
hyena's,  while  his  mien  was  a  lion's.  I  know 
that  the  old  did  not  trust  him,  with  all  his  fair 


78  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


seeming.  And  I  have  heard  your  old  college 
chum,  Col.  R,  say  that  he  was  a  heartless 
flirt,  and  base  in  resentments,  equal  to  garland 
with  favors  those  he  had  designs  upon  till  they 
trusted  him,  while  using  others  to  bring  them 
annoyance;  that  Italian  revenge  is  honor  to 
the  masked  cruelties  his  heart  is  base  enough 
to  execute.  He  certainly  loved  Miriam;  and 
though  you  smiled  at  his  rivalry,  you  dreaded 
lest  his  artfulness  should  supplant  you;  so 
at  least  F.  used  to  say.  And  Miriam  used 
to  say  that  he  could  bide  a  life-time  to  find 
advantage  to  gratify  a  grudge." 

"Where  is  Col.  R?"  Van  inquired. 

"In  Germany,  when  last  heard  from,"  he  re 
plied.  "And  at  the  time  the  forged  letters 
state  he  and  Miriam  were  married,  Ms  mar 
riage  with  Lieut.  W.'s  elegant  cousin,  Miriam, 
was  celebrated,  and  they  took  steamer  for  the 
Old  World.  W.  had  been  invited  to  the  mar 
riage,  but  excused  himself  on  the  plea  that  he 
was  about  to  sail  for  Africa  on  a  hunting  ex 
cursion  of  months." 

"The  wretch!  "  exclaimed  Both;  "he  was  on 
this  coast  four  months  ago.  He  it  must  have 
been,  Quien,  who  killed  the  eagle  the  morning 
Van  left  our  camp  for  home,  and  came  down 
into  the  fissure  inquiring  for  him ;  whose  light 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCKNES.  79 

curly  hair  appeared  under  his  black  wig  when 
it  was  awry  the  night  he  lodged  with  us ;  and 
went  back  across  the  mountains  to  the  trad 
ing-post,  where,  no  doubt,  he  had  personally 
repeated  the  forgeries  of  his  infamous  letters. 
You  called  my  attention  to  his  military  style 
and  phrases." 

I  cannot  word-paint  the  expression  in  Van's 
face  when  Roth's  disclosures  followed  the  pre 
sumptions  of  Will.  But  any  one  beholding  it 
would  say  that  a  meeting  between  him  and  W. 
would  drop  on  the  wings  of  the  wind  the  he 
roic  philosophy  of  self -repression  in  his  prom 
ontory  monologue,  and  reenact  the  scene  of 
the  moon-lit  gulf,  where  Tom  encountered  him 
as  the  murdered  man's  ghost,  and  nearly  lost 
his  life  for  his  wisdom. 

With  Will  and  the  old  pioneer  he  sped  from 
the  peaks  toward  the  plains  that  afternoon, 
journeying  to  Miriam  at  Sacramento.  No  plea 
for  rest  could  induce  him  to  wait  till  next  morn 
ing.  Love's  smoldering  fire  had  returned  at 
the  altar  of  wifely  honor,  and  by  its  witchery 
was  causing  him  to  leap  like  the  hart  to  the 
presence  of  that  unequaled  enchantress — a 
pure,  self -immolating,  loving  wife. 

Mack  remained  to  mine  again  with  us. 


80  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  PLAZA  D'ARMAS  QUIVERS. 

NDUSTRY  not  being  the  special- 
ty  of  either  of  us,  as  it  had  been 
of  Both's  forefathers,  we  could 
promptly  improvise  a  hunt  or  a 
a  ramble  among  the  labyrinths 
and  mountains  to  inspect  the  stones  and  plants 
and  enjoy  the  beauties  of  leisure.  In  an  ex 
cursion  of  that  kind  we  were  arrested,  on  a 
rough  summit,  by  a  cracked  voice  in  which  the 
"carrajo"  of  Mexico,  the  "sacre"  of  France, 
and  the  abrupter  profanity  of  the  United  States 
were  ludicrously  intermixed.  The  voice  ap 
proached  us,  then  receded,  and  its  mad  jargon 
left  no  doubt  that  its  owner  was  terribly  in 
earnest  about  something.  We  glided  a  feAV 
paces  southward,  and  again  heard  its  raving 
imprecations.  Presently  the  frantic  jabberer, 
with  a  hop  and  a  skip,  pranced  along  a  boaten 
path  in  thirty  feet  of  the  rocky  clump  in  which 
we  were  *hidden.  His  eyes  stood  out  with 
fierceness;  his  long  white  hair,  matted,  flopped 
about  his  faco  as  lie  leaped  on;  and  his  cloth- 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  81 

ing  dangled  in  tatters  about  his  stubby  per 
son.  In  a  minute  or  two  he  rushed  back  mut 
tering,  his  hands  clasping  several  stones;  and, 
turning  behind  a  massive  rock,  we  knew  by 
his  voice  that  he  had  stopped,  and  judged  by 
the  whiz  and  smash  that  he  was  stoning  some 
object.  We  were  soon  in  position  to  see  his 
crazy  work.  Eight  or  ten  paces  from  him, 
leaning  against  a  large  pine,  was  the  motion 
less  form  of  a  bleeding  Indian,  with  bow  and 
arrows  near  him.  The  tree  was  barked  in  sev 
eral  places  next  his  breast  and  cheek;  and  be 
tween  throws  the  maniac,  leaping  up  and  down, 
screamed  in  the  very  ecstasy  of  rage.  We 
were  but  little  aside  from  the  range  of  his  dev 
ilish  eye  and  its  apparently  dead  object.  As 
he  hurled  the  last  stone  he  galloped  back  in 
the  path  described,  and  Mack  dashed  to  the 
lifeless  Indian  and  bore  him,  with  our  aid, 
across  a  ravine  into  a  tangle  of  young  firs, 
where  we  were  scarcely  concealed  ere  the  ma 
niac  was  at  his  post  again  with  another  sup 
ply  of  stones.  Dropping  them  at  his  feet,  re 
taining  one,  he  drew  back  to  hurl  it,  when  he 
was  transfixed  with  surprise  that  his  victim 
was  gone.  Now  his  manner  wholly  changed. 
He  crouched  and  crept  slowly,  softly  to  the 
tree,  came  down  upon  his  hands  and  knees, 
6 


82  CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

and  wormed  himself  with  unspeakable  cau 
tion  peeringly  round  it,  sprung  to  his  feet 
aghast,  and  sped  away  noiseless  as  a  shadow, 
exerting  every  muscle  to  escape  from  the  spot. 

We  hurried  with  the  Indian  down  the  mount 
ain,  and  on  reaching  a  branch  tried  to  resus 
citate  him.  Poor  fellow!  he  had  gone  nearly 
too  far  toward  the  eternal  jungle  of  game — the 
Digger  Indian's  heaven — to  be  recalled;  but 
when  at  last  he  opened  his  gleamy  black  eye, 
and  knew  he  was  receiving  friendly  care,  it  was 
worth  much  to  the  heart  to  see  the  unmistaka 
ble  joyfulness  that  printed  its  glad  image  upon 
his  tawny  face.  By  signs  and  grimaces  he 
made  us  to  understand  that  he  was  resting  at 
the  tree  when,  before  he  knew  he  was  near, 
the  madman  rocked  him;  that  he  was  rising 
to  fly  when  a  stone  smote  him  on  the  temple 
and  felled  him;  that  he  couldn't  get  away,  but 
comprehended  every  thing  till,  after  many 
throws,  the  maniac  hit  him  in  the  forehead. 
He  imitated  his  screams  and  fantastic  leaps, 
and  conveyed  to  us,  by  dismal  groans  and  con 
tortions,  the  horror  he  experienced  ere  he  be 
came  insensible. 

The  following  afternoon  Tom  climbed  a  steep 
to  kill  a  deer  we  had  observed  to  pass  that 
point  several  evenings.  Becoming  impatient, 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  83 

he  pushed  on  to  the  crags  of  Crazy  Mountain, 
as  we  now  called  the  one  a  mile  east  of  us; 
and,  killing  a  deer  near  its  crown,  he  sought 
the  haunt  of  the  maniac  to  leave  him  a  por 
tion.  Beaching  the  Indian's  tree,  he  pursued 
the  path  till  it  ended  in  a  clump  of  hut-like 
rocks,  among  which  were  bones  and  feathers, 
but  no  sign  of  fire,  evidently  tokens  of  the 
maniac's  feast  on  raw  game.  Depositing  part 
of  his  venison  there,  he  had  proceeded  a  third 
of  the  distance  tentward  when  he  was  stag 
gered  by  a  blow  from  behind,  and  was  furious 
ly  grappled  by  the  madman,  uttering  screams 
of  rage  throughout  the  conflict.  It  was  near 
ly  sundown  when  we  heard  mournful  calls 
far  up  the  labyrinth;  and  Mack  exclaimed, 
"That's  Tom,  and  he  is  in  trouble!" 

We  ran  rapidly  till  we  met  him,  tottering 
under  the  maniac's  dangling  body.  He  ex 
claimed:  "I  have  killed  the  poor  old  man!  I 
didn't  mean  to;  wished  only  to  stun  him  to 
save  myself." 

He  remained  speechless  after  the  few  words 
of  explanation,  and  looked  like  the  statue  of 
grief  while  we  stanched  his  wounds  that  were 
bleeding  profusely.  As  we  turned  quickly  to 
examine  the  maniac,  he  knelt  at  his  head. 
"Life,"  I  said,  as  the  heart  fluttered  against 


84  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD   SCENES. 

my  fingers;  and  tears  gushed  from  his  eyes, 
and  he  whispered:  "If  the  mountain  were  a 
pearl,  I  would  give  it  that  the  old  man  should 
live.  I  smote  him  only  when  I  thought  my 
self  dying  in  his  strangling  grip.  For  a  world 
of  crowns  I  wouldn't  be  his  slayer." 

We  hurried  with  the  insensible  form  to 
the  tent.  His  struggle  with  mad  death  was 
fearful.  Shrieks  of  rage,  howls,  fierce  efforts 
to  beat  us  down  and  escape;  feigned  quiet,  fol 
lowed  by  precipitate  attacks  upon  us;  eyes  of 
monstrous  glare  leaping  and  fastening  upon 
one,  then  another;  sleeplessness,  railings  of 
hot  hate,  were  on  the  third  day  bound  by  the 
soft  breath  of  sleep,  whose  sprites  flooded  him 
with  subduing  harmonies.  For  smiles  rip 
pled  in  his  furrowed  face  till  it  lost  its  furious 
glow  and  wore  a  tender,  cheerful  expression; 
and  he  said  in  his  slumber:  "Play  it  again, 
Joli.  Nothing,  child,  is  so  sweet  to  me  as 
your  voice  and  harp." 

Mack  whispered  to  us:  "I  thought  so.  I 
know  him  now.  'Joli' — pretty— is  what  he 
called  his  little  girl;  her  brother,  'Phonse;' 
her  mother,  'Verite.'  His  revolutionary  prin 
ciples  forced  him  from  France  to  New  Orleans, 
where  he  taught  me  French.  He  left  there 
for  Cuba." 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


But  we  were  again  listening  to  tile  old  dream 
er  on  his  bear-skin  pallet,  as  he  murmured: 
"The  Plaza  d' Armas  quivers  to-night  with 
merry  beauties,  and  the  flowers  vie  with  their 
gems  to  tint  them  with  witchery;  but  thou, 
Jolij  art  prettiest  of  the  Havandras." 

Then  he  breathed  quicker  for  a  little  while, 
and  was  quiet.  But  soon  we  heard  him  whis 
per:  "Sing  it  again,  child;  sing!  It  was  your 
mother's  song— Verity's  song.  Verite,  my  Ve- 
ritel" 

And  heaven  gushed  in  his  wrinkled  cheeks. 
Not  heaven,  but  the  love  of  long  ago,  when 
those  cheeks  were  young  and  florid,  lived  again 
in  his  gray  heart  till  it  forgot  that  it  was  old 
and  dreary  now,  arid  made  his  gladdest  mem 
ory  a  present  reality. 

An  hour  plunged  from  the  sun's  face,  and 
the  maniac's  sleep  was  too  deep  to  be  disturbed 
by  its  flight  into  oblivion,  for  as  it  traced  its 
swift  course  he  rested  seemingly  as  rest  the 
dead;  and  his  face  grew  paler,  and  the  veins 
grew  blue  upon  his  fair  old  brow ;  and  marble- 
like  repose  drew  its  white,  hard  sheet  over  his 
features;  and  through  their  half-opened  eye 
lids  his  eyes  shone  glazed  and  still,  and  his 
form  moved  not.  But  a  glossy  feather  that 
had  quivered  on  a  quail's  crown,  when  held 


86  CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

to  his  nostrils,  veered  softly  to  and  fro  as  if 
bathing  in  an  infant's  breath.  So  we  knew 
that  life  yet  kinged  the  struggle,  and  we  watched 
in  hope,  moving  noiselessly,  like  dumb  chil 
dren,  about  the  gray  misfortune  who  slum 
bered  in  our  care. 

Then  the  sun  dipped  behind  a  peak  and  left 
sunset  on  its  brow,  and  cast  upon  the  sky  va 
pors  of  pink;  and  soft- winged  twilight  drooped 
upon  the  cliffs  and  ravines,  and  sung  a  dreamy 
lullaby  to  nature  till  she  fell  asleep  in  dark, 
who  opened  her  weird  bosom  to  give  her  rest. 
And  the  stars  peeped  through  the  dusky  pines 
upon  us,  and  their  glances  melted  in  the  dim 
haze ;  and  the  air  whispered  to  the  old  sleeper, 
and,  drawing  its  ether  robes  about  it,  floated 
on  till  midnight  came,  and  early  dawn;  and 
yet  he  slept.  And  sunrise  laughed  at  him 
from  Crazy  Mountain,  and  rolled  down  upon 
him  floods  of  glory-beams  that  piled  in  pur 
ple  bubbles  over  him,  and  woke  him  up,  and 
tossed  him  up  on  his  elbow.  He  looked  ear 
nestly,  like  an  astonished  child,  at  each  of  us, 
at  his  own  garb,  his  hands,  the  tent,  slowly 
twirled  his  beard,  and  rested  his  wondering 
eye  upon  Mack.  We  held  our  breath.  Some 
power— perhaps  the  mysterious  flame  in  his 
eye  —  made  us  know  that  the  passing  mo- 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  87 

ment  was  the  crisis  with  the  lost  old  man,  who, 
sheeiiy  exhausted,  fell  to  the  pallet,  and  whis 
pered:  "It 's  Mack;  it  can  be  no  one  else." 

We  bathed  his  hands  and  face  in  warm 
water,  and  brought  him  drink  from  the  cold 
rill  hard  by  that  seemed  to  bubble  the  merrier 
as  the  fainting  old  maniac,  a  maniac  no  longer, 
slept  again. 

"  He  '11  die  now,' '  said  Tom.  And  his  rough 
face  looked  beautiful  for  the  womanly  tender 
ness  that  suffused  it  and  gave  to  the  words  the 
heart-melody  that  thrills  like  notes  from  an 
other,  better  world.  But  it  was  not  pale  death 
with  the  old  Frenchman;  for  he  awoke  in  his 
right  mind,  and  very  much  strengthened. 

Unhappily  his  story  was  the  oft-told  one. 
What  little  reason  gambling  losses  had  left 
him  was  crazed  by  "  the  flowing  bowl,"  till  de 
lirium  tremens  one  night  hustled  him  out  into 
the  jungle.  His  son  Phonse,  who  we  soon 
brought  to  him,  had  vainly  sought  him  many 
days,  and  had  given  him  up  as  lost  forever  in 
some  abyss,  like  many  another  whose  life  and 
dream  of  wealth  together  had  perished  in  the 
gold  jungle,  when,  where,  how,  none  shall 
ever  know.  A  few  days  after  he  and  Phonse 
had  begun  to  mine  near  us,  he  came  into  our 
pit  incapable  of  speech  for  a  time,  but  pres^ 


88  CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

ently  said:  "You  deem  me  silly,  I  know,  and 
dread  that  I  am  going  crazy  again.  But  not 
so,  not  so.  I  have  had  hideous  thoughts  like 
rude  dreams  of  late.  Desolate  loneliness,  dark 
mountains,  doleful  abysses;  granite  clumps 
like  crumbled  towers,  peopled  with  horrible 
forms  and  sounds;  sleeplessness,  mad  ravings, 
struggles  with  fiends,  murder,  have  been  re 
hearsing  in  my  brain.  Tell  me,  boys,  where 
you  found  me.  What  doing  ?  How  surround 
ed?  Was  blood  upon  my  hands?  Had  I  slain 
any  one?  Speak  out.  This  suspense,  this  toil 
ing  back  through  memory's  wilds  of  grating 
forms  and  voices,  will  kill  me." 

And  he  wept  only  as  the  aged  weep — not 
struggling  with  the  grief,  nor  murmuring  that 
it  is,  but  as  if  sorrowing  most  of  all  that  it 
had  fallen  upon  others.  Mack  had  stepped  to 
his  side,  and  with  a  woman's  intuition  that 
never  errs  when  it  seeks  to  allay  the  tumults 
of  the  heart,  replied:  "We'll  tell  you  every 
thing ;  will  go  to  the  places  with  you.  You  spent 
several  weeks  lost  in  the  mountains  before  we 
met  you.  But  be  assured  that  you  have  killed 
no  one.  You  did  knock  an  Indian  senseless, 
and  would  have  sent  him  on  the  eternal  hunt, 
but  when  you  turned  from  him  to  procure  more 
rocks  to  stone  him  with,  we  fled  with  him  to 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.          89 

our  camp.  He  left  us  the  next  morning  happy 
as  a  chief,  loaded  with  provisions  and  old  cloth 
ing." 

His  face  mantled  with  delighted  relief,  but 
he  said,  "Well?" 

"Well,"  answered  Mack,  smiling,  "Koth, 
there,  always  feels  tired  when  heavy  work  is 
to  be  done,  so  he  left  us  to  pry  up  bowlders 
the  following  afternoon  and  went  hunting  up 
your  mountain,  for  which  you  knocke'd  him 
down  as  an  intruder,  and  were  strangling  him 
when  he  stunned  you  with  a  knot,  and  started 
here  with  you.  We  heard  him  whooping,  and 
went  to  his  aid.  When  your  brain-fever  died 
out  you  recognized  me,  and  have  made  us  hap 
py  ever  since  by  tarrying  here  with  us.  We 
will  go  up  the  mountain  with  you  when  you 
wish  and  examine  the  places  where  you  lived." 

Luckily  a  few  months  dropped  into  his 
hand  many  pounds  of  gold,  and  wafted  him 
back  to  Cuba  happy  as  a  Frenchman  can  well 
be  outside  of  a  revolution.  Indeed,  it  ap 
peared  that  all  he  lacked  to  make  him  ecstatic 
was  to  be  in  Paris  manipulating  a  jubilee  of 
barricades.  His  articles  of  faith  were  two 
only : 

1.  Roman  Churchism  and  monarchy  are  the 
bane  of  France. 


90 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


2.  Kepublicanism  is  felicity. 

His  words  of  the  first  were  Heclaian  slag 
at  white  heat.  His  words  of  the  last  were 
phrased  ecstasies. 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  91 


CHAPTER  XII. 

PIKE — THAT  ECHO  REHEARSES  WITH  A  MUSIC 
SO  STRANGE. 

OTH  and  the  brown  donkey  were 
accompanied  by  another  donkey 
when  they  returned  from  the 
nearest  store,  whither  they  had 
gone  fifteen  miles,  over  spurs  and 
ravines,  to  make  gastronomic  discoveries.  He 
said,  as  we  were  discussing  the  new  donkey's 
good  points:  "We  shall  need  both,  and  many 
more,  to  pack  our  gold,  after  awhile,  to  some 
point  that  wagons  can  reach." 

Mack's  eye  twinkled  at  this  naive  revelation 
Qf  Tom's  gold  dream,  and  danced  as  he  observed 
the  flood  of  reciprocal  humor  that  washed  the 
face  of  the  Missourian — a  tall,  swarthy,  frank, 
quiet  yet  sprightly  specimen,  whom  also  he  had 
brought  with  him,  and  called  Pike.  He  had 
helped  him  out  of  a  desperate  affray  with  some 
"claim-jumpers,"  near  the  store,  who  had 
clubbed  to  kill  him,  as  he  would  not  peaceably 
yield  most  of  his  mine  to  them.  His  wounds 


92          CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

were  slight,  and  he  was  soon  in  the  placers  delv 
ing  for  their  hid  treasure  with  us.  But  they 
failed  to  pay  in  a  few  weeks,  and  making  no 
new  discoveries  we  moved  many  days  south 
ward. 

Pike  left  us  much  to  ourselves  on  the  route, 
for  he  often  diverged  to  prospect,  or  hunt,  or 
converse  with  the  scattered  miners;  but  never 
failed  to  find  our  camp  of  nights.  His  wood 
craft  was  a  marvel,  and  he  convoyed  us  safely 
out  of  many  a  tangle  of  thicket  and  cliff. 

Once,  about  an  hour  after  night-fall,  he  came 
to  camp  and  displayed  a  quartz  specimen  of 
singular  beauty  and  richness.  The  blent  blue 
and  white  quartz,  thickly  studded  with  gold 
through  and  through  in  every  part,  caused  it 
to  sparkle  in  the  fire-light  like  a  clump  of  com 
pressed  stars.  It  weighed  more  than  a  pound. 
And  Pike,  as  he  held  it  in  one  and  another  po 
sition,  to  show  its  value  and  varied  beauty, 
said:  "If  a  chap  were  to  send  this  chunk  o' 
beauty  to  his  sweetheart,  would  n't  it  entrance 
her?  An't  it  a  memento?  She  'd  stow  it  away 
snug  enough  in  her  keepsake  drawer,  but  she  'd 
wrap  the  chap  up  in  her  heart  for  good  and 
alias/ 

I  give  Pike's  words,  but  not  as  he  would  spell 
or  pronounce  them.  He  would  spell  "memen- 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  93 


to,"  for  instance,  mi-men-ter,  and  so  pronounced 
it.  Yet  I  am  sure  we  will  not  catcli  the  fresh 
ness  of  his  spirit  so  well  on  this  plan  as  we 
would  were  he  admitted  to  our  presence  in  his 
own  vernacular;  for  the  reason  that  no  trans 
lation  can  give  all  the  phases  of  the  original. 
His  speech  put  a  spell  upon  Both  deeper  and 
sweeter  by  far  than  the  specimen  had,  for  his 
eyes  were  dewy  as  if  a  softest  memory  had 
shaped  a  loving  face  in  them,  and  he  said  in  a 
flutter:  "Pike,  I  '11  give  you  three  hundred  dol 
lars  for  it,  for  Leina."' 

"No,"  lie  answered,  "can't  sell  it.  A  wea- 
zel-headed  Mississippian  gave  it  to  me  to-day 
about  ten  o'clock.  I  was  telling  him  who  was 
my  partners,  and  when  I  said  Tom  Rothleit, 
he  sprung  up  out  the  pit,  and  looked  about 
wild-like  and  said  flutterously,  'Where  in 
h — 1  is  he?'  So  you  see,  Tom,  he  thinks  you 
belong  to  the  hot  place,  if  you  an't  there. 
But  I  told  him  you  were  n't  there  yet,  but  were 
on  the  way  with  Mack  and  Quien  somewheres 
in  the  jungle,  and  that  it  was  no  use  trying  to 
head  you  off.  He  give  me  this  yellow  rose 
quartz,  and  said:  'Give  it  to  Tom  for  his  little 
girl,  and  tell  him  that  he  saved  my  life  on  the 
Isthmus  when  my  comrades  deserted  me  to 
die  with  cholera  on  the  Chagres  River.'" 


94  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

"Aha!  it  is  Skelt,"  Tom  replied-,  "but  lie 
would  have  got  well  anyhow." 

"  Yes,"  said  Pike,  "may  be  so;  I  do  n't  know 
about  that,  But  when  he  give  it  to  me  to 
bring  to  you,  he  said,  '  It 's  nothing  to  send  him, 
I  know;'  and  his  face  twitched  and  he  turned 
his  eyes  up  a  tree  to  keep  me  from  seeing  the 
drops  in  'em.  And  may  be  so  I  would  have 
been  living  too,  for  all  the  knives  and  pistols 
of  them  claim-jumpers;  but  it's  mighty  fortu 
nate,  anyhow,  that  Tom  Eothleit's  lively  thumps 
and  numb  skull  was  atween  me  and  some  of 
'em." 

Pike's  speech  had  an  abrupt  turn  here,  for 
a  grizzly  waddled  along  the  side  of  the  spur 
in  pistol-shot  ot  us,  and  he  added  hurriedly, 
"  Do  n't  shoot,  do  n't  shoot! " 

The  grizzly's  dunnish  hair  looked  glossy  in 
the  star-light,  and  though  he  stood  up  full 
breast  to  us  to  survey  us,  he  gave  token  of 
neither  any  great  surprise  nor  of  any  fear  nor 
rage.  He  appeared  like  a  huge  old  darky, 
full  of  fun,  waiting  for  a  company  of  boys 
whom  he  loved,  to  begin  a  frolic.  We  gave 
him  no  signal,  so  he  sauntered  on  over  rock 
and  log  and  spur — hunting,  may  be,  his  beloved, 
who,  true  to  the  sex,  was  leading  him  a  race. 
When  he  disappeared,  we  restored  our  unused 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.          95 

revolvers  to  their  belts,  and  listened  to  a  nar 
rative  from  Pike,  as  follows:  "There's  game 
in  grizzlies,  boys.  Don't  provoke  'em  'cept 
you  are  safe.  Unless  you  brain  'em,  or  heart 
'em,  or  shiver  their  backbones,  or  unj'int  their 
necks  first  shot,  you  are  bound  to  go  under. 
That 's  why  I  told  you  not  to  shoot  just  now. 
If  you  had  n't  killed  him  first  fire,  thar  would 
have  been  more  skeletons  than  his  left  here. 

"Old  Eackansac  pulled  trigger  with  me 
among  the  Comanches  an'  in  Mexico.  He  were  a 
brave  one,  and  as  cool  and  as  hot  in  a  scrimmage 
as  Sattan  would  hev  him.  He  could  lay  his  bul 
let  on  a  dime,  at  off-hand  a  hundred  yards,  four 
out  o'  five  times.  He  got  mad  arter  grizzlies 
when  he  come  to  this  country,  and  was  allus 
a-slopein'  through  the  mountains  lookin'  up  a 
carouse  with  'em.  He  trimmed  the  hide  off  a 
heap  o'  'em  too,  and  sold  enough  o'  their  keer_ 
cases  to  keep  him  a-going.  One  Sunday  he 
were  a-fixin'  his  rifle  mighty  keerful,  an'  we 
knew  he  were  for  bars  that  day.  We  told  him 
to  stop  it  and  stay  in  camp  Sundays  anyhow, 
but  you  might  as  well  have  cavorted  roun'  a 
hithen.  I  follered  him  over  the  ridge  an' 
tried  to  decoy  him  back,  for  I  felt  sartin  he 
were  wrong,  and  if  he  took  that  hunt  it  were 
his  last  one. 


96  CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

"  My  mother  used  to  say  to  me  when  I  were 
a  boy,  '  Eacket,  quit  your  pranks  when  Sun 
day  comes.  Feed  your  dog  well,  an'  let  him 
sleep  all  day.  No  rabbits  of  Sundays,  Eacket, 
do  you  hear.  Ef  you  hunt  o'  Sundays,  some 
thing  bad  will  come  of  it.'  And  all  the  time  I 
was  inducin'  old  Eackansac  to  turn  back,  I 
seemed  to  be  a-hearin'  her  blessed  voice  talkin' 
it  all  over  to  me.  But  at  last  he  told  me  to  go 
to — well,  som'ers,  and  he  would  go  a-huntin' 
ef  he  went  thar,  too.  An'  he  went  to  both  of 
'em  may  be,  a-huntin'  anyhoAv. 

"  Night  arter  night  come,  and  no  Eackansac 
were  heered  of.  But  not  long  arter  that,  some 
hunters  found  a  skeleton ;  a  bone  here,  another 
thar,  a  broke  rifle,  an'  close  by  another  skeleton 
of  a  big  bar  with  a  bowie-knife  stuck  in  the 
skull.  He  'd  shot  that  bar  through  the  shoul 
ders,  for  thar  was  the  bullet-holes,  and  druv  his 
knife  into  his  brain,  for  he  were  game  anywhere ; 
but  the  bar  killed  him  for  all  that.  An'  the 
wolves  had  gnawed  all  the  meat  off  them  like 
they  had  been  beasts  together.  Bat  that  bar 
would  never  hev  got  him  without  help." 

"Stuff!"  sneered  Tom;  "you  know  nobody 
helped  the  bear." 

"  It  was  n't  nobody,"  he  retorted,"  it  were  a 
misfort'nate  providence  taking  keer  of  Sunday 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.  97 


and  leaving  its  despiser  unprotected-like  to 
perish.  I  hev  bad  luck,  plenty  of  it;  but  it 
come  in  a  honester  way  than  insultin'  Sundays 
to  bring  it  on.  Eackansac  would  hev  killed  that 
bar  afore  he  growled,  ef  it  were  on  his  own 
day.  He  knew  he  were  wrong,  for  he  told  me 
so  just  afore  he  told  me  to  go  to — som'ers.  It 
are  better  to  rest  on  Sunday  instid  o'  trampin' 
on  to  it  like  hithens." 

As  a  rock  from  the  bluff  splashed  in  the 
branch  near  us,  an  alarmed  deer  bounded  past 
chased  by  coyotes.  We  fired  into  the  pack 
that  scattered  with  affrighted  yelps  in  every 
direction. 

"  Them  creeters,"  said  Pike,  "  allus  'mind  me 
of  politicians  and  editurs  that  puffs  whisky, 
and  them  that  sells  it,  but  howl  and  snaps  at  laws 
and  folks  anent  it.  Them  and  Sattan  laps  at 
the  same  puddles." 

"Doubted,"  interjected  Tom;  "for  Satan 
do  n't  use  water  by  drops  even." 

"  Ef  you  'd  ever  noticed,"  he  rejoined,  "  them 
that  writes  up  whisky-shops  an'  them  that  run 
'em,  you  'd  a  known  I  did  n't  mean  puddles  o' 
water.  They  look  like  they  'd  sucked  brandy- 
bottles  until  they  was  puffed  with  red  Sattans. 
Free  whisky  an'  free  lunch,  without  water,  is 
their  choice  dishes.  A  kag  o'  brandy  will  buy 
7 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


'em.  They  put  p'ison,  tlieirn,  on  all  that's 
good,  an'  honors  the  wust  things;  like  coyotes 
that  fondle  wolves,  an'  gnaw  in  pieces  fawns." 

"You  will  never  get  to  Congress,  Pike,"  re 
plied  Tom. 

"I  am  not  a-wantin'  to,"  he  said.  "Editurs 
make  Congressmen,  an'  the  pure  editurs  can 
make  too  few  on  'em.  So  the  wust  can'dates 
goes  thar.  Old  Zack  Taylor  couldn't  stand 
them;  they  smelt  him  to  death  in  a  year,  and  he 
were  a  hard  one,  seasoned  in  the  Mexican  war. 
It  takes  lawyers  like  you  to  stand  Congress; 
they  is  soaked  fur  it." 

The  reports  drawn  from  our  revolvers  by  the 
coyotes  were  repeated  several  times  by  echo, 
who  threw  airily  back  to  us  every  halloo  we  ut 
tered,  as  though  the  sprites  of  dell  and  hill  were 
pelting  one  another  with  exhilarating  ether 
from  the  faces  of  the  cliffs.  By  this  time  the 
coyotes,  very  like  small,  trim,  light-brown  dogs, 
flanked  us,  and  had  gathered  on  the  thicket's 
border  eastward.  They  were  not  in  position 
to  be  echoed,  so  we  escaped  a  multiplex  riot 
of  shrewish  howls  adapted  to  evoke  imps  and 
set  them  firing  rock  and  air  in  a  fury  of  disgust. 
Our  echo  would  not  echo  them. 

On  changing  our  position  a  score  or  more  of 
steps,  we  were  greeted  with  two  other  echoes 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.          99 

in  addition  to  the  first — one  of  which,  far  away 
in  the  labyrinth,  threw  back  our  words  to  us 
in  tones  so  musically  soft  that  we  closed  our 
ears  to  every  other  sound  and  stood  hearken 
ing  for  its  tones  as  the  infant  listens  for  the 
mother's  voice.  Mack  said,  after  we  resumed 
our  seats:  "That  echo  rehearses  with  a  music 
so  strange  that  the  heart  goes  out  after  it  as 
after  some  sweet  hope  long  lost,  throwing  back 
tenderest  calls  to  approach  and  be  blessed. 
Echo  is  a  word's  ghost.  The  word  dies,  but  re 
peats  itself  in  echo.  Echo  is  life's  ghost. 
Life  hushes  in  death,  but  over  in  the  regions 
beyond  repeats  itself  in  echo,  and  moves  on  in 
echo,  in  purity  in  the  strange  land  of  spirits  if 
it  had  been  pure  in  the  body.  For  as  the  sound 
is  here,  so  is  it  on  yon  crag  in  echo.  If  it  be 
musical  and  clear  here,  it  is  the  same  over  there 
in  echo,  only  more  so.  If  it  be  the  reverse 
here,  so  is  it  there  in  echo." 

"I  thank  you  for  the  thought,  Mack,"  said 
Roth ;  "  it  is  tender  and  chaste  like  woman.  And 
how  many  good  lives  are  here  that  shall  exist 
beyond  the  boundaries  of  time-,  in  added  tints 
of  glory  by  God's  hand,  to  adapt  them  best 
for  residence  in  heaven  but  should  be  echoed  in 
other  lives  here !  Once  upon  the  sea,  in  a  pal 
ace-steamer  eight  or  ten  days  from  port,  wo 


100         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


saw,  at  the  setting  in  of  darkness,  far  away  di 
rectly  in  front  of  the  ship's  prow,  a  lurid  star 
rise  out  of  the  billows  and  dip  back,  rise  and 
re-dip  for  many  minutes,  growing  larger  and 
larger  each  bath.  Then  it  shone  steadily  just 
above  the  billows,  enlarging,  dropping  into  the 
sea,  springing  up  again,  quivering,  nodding, 
staring,  flaming,  brighter  and  larger  meeting 
us.  We  climbed  upon  chairs  and  benches  and 
rope-coils,  and  into  the  cordage  of  the  myste 
rious  masts  throwing  their  arms  about  wildly 
above  us;  and  all  eyes  were  bent  upon  the 
witching  wonder  walking  the  dark  waves.  It 
nestled  on  them,  oscillated,  expanded,  rolling 
toward  us,  looking  in  the  darkness  like  some 
magic  wonder  riding  the  sea. 

"  Presently  one  whispered,  'A  burning  ship! ' 
and  the  words  moaned  from  heart  to  heart  till 
the  agony  voiced  them  in  a  shout  of  many  voic 
es,  'A  burning  ship!  a  burning  ship! '  Then, 
dumbed  by  the  horror,  still  we  watched.  Soon 
the  thunder  of  its  machinery  and  laboring 
furnaces  and  the  crash  of  its  frantic  wTheels 
were  heard  in  the  thick  night,  and  wild,  brave 
calls  from  its  signaling  whistle  shouted  athwart 
the  dark  and  the  deep.  Still  right  onward  it 
rushed,  and  right  onward  we  plunged  to  it. 
Now  we  had  so  nearly  approached  that  the  star 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         101 

had  severed  into  many  great  fragments,  pour 
ing  shine  out  of  and  about  the  brilliantly  lighted 
ship,  from  as  many  rifts  in  its  white  sides  and 
glowing  roof,  till  itself  and  objects  on  its  gal 
leries,  the  men,  women  and  children  peopling 
its  decks,  were  visible  to  us.  And  these  were 
observing  us  as  eagerly  and  as  safely  as  we  were 
beholding  them.  And  all  the  way,  thirty-six 
hundred  miles,  and  all  the  time — day,  night— 
that  and  this  had  been  bounding,  on  the  wings 
of  steam  and  storm,  over  an  ocean  air-line, 
rushing  together;  wiien,  as  we  thought,  'They 
will  surely  crash  into  each  other  and  sink  to 
gether  here,'  this  veered  to  the  west,  that  to  the 
east.  Each  tossed  rockets  into  the  night's 
cloud,  and  their  masters  trumpeted  messages 
to  each  other  as  they  passed,  and  the  passen 
gers  cheered  across  the  yawned  wave.  Then 
each  veered  into  the  watery  air-line  again,  and 
away,  away  over  mountain  and  chasm  of  sea, 
each  strained  to  its  destined  port,  bearing  its 
life-freight  safe  to  shore  at  last.  Each  seemed 
an  echo  of  the  other. 

"  To  me,  the  incident  was  a  reminder  of  pure 
characters  on  the  sea  of  life — each  to  trust  true, 
neither  in  another's  way,  though  the  same  path 
pursuing;  voyaging  this  way  and  that,  increas 
ing  knowledge,  hopefully  signaling  each  other 
on  the  throbbing  billows." 


102         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

"It  is  a  joy  to  look  upon  such  characters," 
said  Mack,  "to  hear  the  flutter  of  their  sails, 
to  see  the  plunge  of  their  prows,  the  dip  and 
plunge  and  roll,  their  onward  push,  the  stretch 
and  swell  of  their  taut  cordage,  the  glint  of 
their  portly  sides — for  all  within  is  peace  and 
good-will  to  God  and  man.  They  are  floating 
havens,  illuminated  and  furnished  to  save  the 
wrecked  on  the  main,  to  brave  the  tempestuous 
breakers  till  the  tossed  voyagers  are  safely  tided 
to  the  quiet  shore. 

"  Such  men,  such  women  are  shower  and  sun 
shine  to  the  world.  They  invest  wastes  with 
verdure,  make  the  desert  heart  to  blossom  as 
the  rose.  They  bind  up,  build  up,  pacificate. 
Everywhere — some  greater,  some  less — upon 
life's  seditious  floods  they  sail.  In  fog,  in  clear, 
in  belt  of  calms,  in  belt  of  storms,  off  on  the 
trade-wind  currents,  farmed  by  the  breeze, 
rocked  by  the  hurricane,  each  in  place  strug 
gling  forward,  drifting  life-boats  after  the  lost, 
availing  all  means  for  the  ministry  of  happi 
ness,  dispensing  life  and  light  in  storm  and 
quiet  4J11  they  shall  knock  at  the  eternal  docks, 
course  finished,  sails  furled,  steam  off,  wheels 
at  rest,  the  '  Good  Master '  aboard  inspecting, 
saying,  '  Well  done.'  This  world  were  happi 
er  echoing  their  pure  principles." 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         103 

In  the  lull  of  conversation  now,  we  were 
startled  by  the  grating  rattle  of  a  serpent  that 
struck  over  the  spot  whence  we  had  leaped  at 
the  warning.  It  coiled  in  a  moment  again, 
its  tremulous  rattle  whizzing  in  its  ire;  but 
Pike's  revolver  flashed  bullets  through  its  spot 
ted  folds,  and  it  stretched  itself  out  and  died; 
and  Pike  said:  "Tom,  I  heerd  you  say  onct,  in 
one  of  your  tantrums,  that  '  demagogues  in 
Church  and  State,  like  them  that  tarries  long 
at  the  wine,  was  rancid  moralities,  cancerous 
intellectuals,  poisonous  serpents,  effluviating 
the  sea  of  humanity;  an'  that  the  wise  should 
keep  apart  from  them.'  This  spotted  fellow  is 
one  of  their  sort,  and  I  will  drag  him  to  the 
coyotes  at  the  thicket.  Them  snappy,  snarly 
howlers  will  soon  put  him  out  o'  sight,  more  'n 
you  are  likely  to  do  with  your  'demagogues  in 
Church  and  State,'  as  you  call  'em.  Thar 's  too 
many  to  echo  them  brazen,  imperdent,  piznous 
kerakters.  An'  nothin'  ekels  'em  on  arth  in 
'front'ry,  'cept  your  'maginary  tons  o'  gold." 


104 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD   SCENES. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

PHANTOM   OB   NO  PHANTOM,  HE   SHALL   NOT  DIE 
IN  THE  COLD. 


HE  gold  phantom  beguiled  us  in 
to  unfrequented  placers,  in  a  re 
gion  so  rugged  that  even  Indian 
trails  had  disappeared,  and  bus 
ied  us  in  collecting  their  nuggets 
of  gold,  which,  whatever  their  virgin  purity, 
were  small  and  scarce  as  tears  of  joy.  Yet  we 
noted  little  else.  Even  November  was  pass 
ing  freezingly  away,  and  still  gold's  song,  from 
among  the  ice-coated  rocks,  made  us  heed 
less  of  the  thickening  mists  marshaling  among 
the  heights,  videttes  of  the  storm,  rising  out 
of  the  sea  to  break  in  sleet  and  snow  upon  the 
dwellers  among  the  peaks. 

The  maniac  tempest  now  rolled  over  us,  bank 
ing  the  snow -clouds  upon  the  cliffs  where, 
breaking  in  pieces,  they  leaped  into  the  placers 
like  sheeted  thunders,  and  congealed  in  white 
waves  upon  every  thing;  and  in  a  few  days  the 
jungle  of  mountains  appeared  like  a  stranded 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD   SCENES.         105 

snow- world,  upon  which  icy  blasts  incessantly 
poured  foaming  breakers  that  froze  to  it  us  if 
to  sink  it  in  a  sea  of  ice.  We  took  the  alarm 
at  last,  and  struck  out  in  the  tempest  in  quest 
of  a  softer  clime.  We  had  tramped  two  days 
through  the  sleety  wilderness,  and,  bewildered 
by  the  blasts,  had  turned  again  and  again  upon 
our  trail  in  the  sunless,  tempestuous  days. 
Mack  had  sprained  his  foot  by  an  evil  slip  upon 
the  ice,  and  Pike  had  tumbled  into  a  gorge, 
and  sunk  to  his  shoulders  in  the  snow-drift 
at  its  bottom,  bruised  and  stunned  by  the  fall. 
And  we  had  just  entered  a  vista  winding  along 
precipices  and  dismal  canons  when  he  fell 
again,  tripped  by  a  little  snowy  hillock;  and 
puffing  the  snow  from  his  lips,  he  exclaimed, 
"  It  are  a  dead  man  frized  by  himself,  sartinly! 
Unkiver  him,  boys,  unkiver  him  quick!  " 

On  opening  the  mound  we  found  the  pale 
sleeper  yet  with  life;  and  we  rubbed  him 
roughly,  no  doubt,  but  with  kindly  intent,  till 
his  breathing  was  healthful;  and  wrapping 
blankets  round  him,  we  kindled  a  fire  and 
camped  for  the  night.  The  snow-man  seemed 
quite  restored  in  an  hour  or  two,  and  told  us 
that  he  had  wandered  from  a  hunting  party 
escaping  out  of  the  mountains.  In  the  inter 
vals  of  the  storm  he  walked  along  the  crest  of 


106         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD   SCENES. 

the  ridge  and  peered  into  the  gulches  as  if 
watching  for  the  coining  of  some  one  or  essay 
ing  to  settle  the  question  of  our  whereabouts 
— restless,  though  we  strove  to  make  him  at 
ease  with  us. 

The  night  was  black,  but  the  winds  were  at 
rest  for  awhile;  and  though  the  snow  fell  thick 
er,  our  brave  fire  shot  red  sparkles  among  its 
white  flakes  as  though  cheering  night  trying 
to  soothe  the  sobbing  storm  upon  her  bosom. 
We  had  improvised  a  brush  tent,  whose  twigs 
in  their  robes  of  sleet  looked  like  jets  of  shim 
mering  glass,  and  we  had  closely  grouped  up 
on  our  blanketed-  ice-couch ;  and  all  was  hush 
save  the  soft  patter  of  the  snow-flakes  fall 
ing  into  bed  upon  bough  and  rock.  Ere 
bus  himself  seemed  satisfied  with  the  rare 
gloom  of  our  situation,  when  a  quick  shriek, 
like  that  of  sudden  death,  shivered  through 
the  icicles  over  our  heads  and  echoed  from 
glon  to  glen.  We  sprung  to  oar  feet,  but  stood 
motionless.  Earth's  dead  seemed  to  be  tramp 
ing  lightly,  running  to  and  fro  around  us. 
Each  snow-robed  shrub  appeared  in  the  mo 
ment  to  be  a  sheeted  ghost  started  from  its 
grave  by  the  horror,  and  the  dark  full  of  sor 
rowful  whispers. 

A  glance  revealing  to  me  that  Koth   and 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        107 


Snow-man  were  gone,  I  ventured  into  the  eddy 
ing  dark,  where  the  flash  and  report  of  a  pis 
tol  guided  me  toward  the  place  of  the  scream. 
Siiow-man  was  expostulating  with  Koth  and  an 
angry  Mexican,  who  lay  grappled  on  the  snow 
too  fiercely  to  use  their  weapons  again.  We 
separated  them,  and  as  they  rose  up  Tom  said: 
"  I  do  n't  believe  a  word  of  it.  It  was  not  a 
tiger's  scream;  it  was  a  human  voice." 

"  No,"  replied  Snow-man;  "  I  know  the  Mex 
ican,  I  tell  you;  believe  him." 

Finding  that  neither  was  hurt,  we  moved  to 
the  fire,  where  the  Mexican  stated  that,  trying 
to  pierce  the  mountains  to  where  a  few  com 
rades  awaited  him  to  move  southward,  he  was 
nearing  our  camp  when  some  animal  bounded 
upon  him  with  a  scream,  but,  missing  its  mark, 
sped  on  down  the  spur;  and  as  he  rushed  for 
the  fire  Tom  met  him,  denied  his  explanation, 
and  the  fight  ensued. 

"Never  mind  it,  Senor,"  said  Both  pleas 
antly;  "you  are  cold  and  hungry.  I  am  glad 
the  ball  missed  you.  Draw  nearer  the  fire. 
Here  is  a  pan  of  venison  and  bread;  welcome; 
help  yourself." 

He  ate  eagerly,  and  in  a  short  while  appeared 
to  sleep  soundly  by  Snow-man.  It  seemed  but 
a  few  minutes  after  that  I  Avas  roused  silently, 


108        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

and  beckoned  aside  by  Tom,  who  said,  "  I  have 
found  him." 

" Found  who?"  I  queried,  vexed  at  being 
waked  from  a  much-needed  sleep  and  led  out 
into  the  whizzing  snow. 

"  Why,  the  man  who  shrieked,"  he  whis 
pered.  "  He  's  coiled  up  at  the  foot  of  the 
precipice  down  yonder — crazy,  I  guess — near 
ly  dead." 

"  Tom,"  said  I,  "  you  are  forever  at  some 
folly.  Have  you  been  groping  about  in  this 
storm  and  darkness,  where  one  can  scarcely  be 
secure  by  day,  hunting  a  phantom  of  your  own 
frenzied  brain  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  have,"  he  retorted;  "and  if  you 
won't  help  me  bring  him  to  the  fire — as  Pike 
and  Mack  are  both  lame — I  '11  drag  him  here. 
Phantom  or  no  phantom,  he  shall  not  die  in 
the  cold." 

I  have  thought  since  that  even  at  that  time 
it  had  become  a  mental  habit  of  mine  to  ques 
tion  Hoth's  sanity  without  being  conscious  of 
it.  His  conduct  on  occasions  was  so  apart 
from  the  customary  channels  of  human  nat 
ure  that  are  cramped  and  selfish,  seldom  fill 
ing  up  and  flooding  over  with  prompt,  free, 
fresh,  brave  concern  for  the  unfriended  tot- 
terers  along  life's  way,  that  at  least  he  was 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        109 

unique  to  me;  and  though  he  controlled  me 
usually,  I  imagined  it  was  strength  humoring 
weakness.  So  I  skirred  out  into  the  icy  chap 
arral  with  him;  and,  aided  to  pick  our  way 
among  the  bent  sleet-clad  underbrush  by  the 
snowy  sheet  that  earth  had  drawn  over  her 
bosom,  we  soon  came  to  the  senseless  man,  and 
bore  him  up  to  the  camp.  In  our  absence  the 
Mexican  and  Snow-man  had  vanished. 

The  wound  upon  the  victim's  head,  inflicted 
by  his  fall  over  the  bluff,  caused  his  insensi 
bility;  for  that  in  his  side,  betraying  the  Mex 
ican's  knife,  was  upon  a  rib.  The  knife  had 
passed  through  a  girdle  of  gold  and  glanced, 
so  the  gash  next  his  heart  barely  sundered  the 
skin.  Only  the  depth  of  snow  where  he  fell 
saved  his  life.  His  slumbers  were  fitful,  and 
he  murmured  as  he  slept  of  the  treachery  of 
his  comrade.  We  tended  him  anxiously  till 
smiles  from  the  fountain  of  dreams  bubbled 
in  his  face;  and  the  words  he  muttered  were 
of  home  and  boyhood  and  dear  faces.  The 
hope  in  his  voice,  the  life  and  quiet  of  his 
smiles,  carried  us  back  across  the  continent 
through  the  moaning  tempest  to  childhood's 
scenes  of  peace  and  safety.  And  the  melodies 
of  the  hearth  and  play-ground,  that  were  in 
the  early  barbaric  clays  of  the  gold-fields  dews 


110        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


to  the  fevered  miners,  were  crisply  sung  by  us; 
and  their  notes  seemed  to  impart  to  those  of 
the  fitful  tempest  a  prankish  dash  that  divest 
ed  it  of  gloom  and  filled  it  with  fun.  We  al 
ternated  in  keeping  guard  and  sleeping — sleep 
ing  mostly;  for  when  the  camp  was  astir  in 
the  morning  we  discovered  that  Both  and  the 
wounded  man  were  gone.  Pike  thought  they 
were  in  pursuit  of  the  Mexican,  and  said: 
"Tom's  saft  -  headed,  specially  about  other 
folks's  wrongs.  He  'd  as  lief  foller  Sattan 
himself  ontil  they 's  rectified.  He 's  right  on- 
til  his  heart  saftens  like  a  gal's;  then  he's 
onreasonable-like,  and  will  do  that  way  that 's 
got  the  least  sense  in  it.  He 's  toled  the  man 
off  arter  them  chaps,  and  like  as  not  the  Mex 
ican's  knife  are  in  his  ungumpsious  heart  afore 
now  Ef  he's  not  dead,  he  are  arter  some 
thing  cleverish,  though;  and,'  he  added  after 
a  moment's  reverie,  "  ef  thar  's  any  chance  to 
make  trouble  of  it,  he  '11  do  it,  and  be  in  the 
middle  of  it  himself,  like  the  nateral  he  are. 
He  might  er  took  me  along  to  help  him  out 
on  it." 

"  Perhaps,"  I  suggested,  "  the  man  became 
crazed  while  we  slept  and  wandered  away, 
and  Both  is  trying  to  beguile  him  into  camp 
again." 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        Ill 


"Like  as  not,"  he  answered,  "like  as  not: 
for  it 's  like  him  a-wanderin'  over  these  snow- 
quags  in  the  marssyless  storm  arter  a  fren 
zied  man  with  a  insane  sperit.  The  man  will 
naterally  run  into  the  wust  places,  and  he'll 
follow  him  or  die,  and  palaver  with  him  every 
where  he  goes.  He'll  outfool  the  fool,  and 
break  both  o'  their  necks." 

Pike  was  active  as  a  catamount,  though  he 
appeared  gangling  and  clumsy.  He  never 
flinched  in  danger,  though  at  times  he  seemed 
fearful;  for  occasionally  he  would  laugh  off 
serious  provocations  or  be  silent,  till,  not  read 
ing  him  rightly,  parties  presumed  too  far,  and 
were  surprised  by  fierce  frays,  in  which  he  was 
certain  to  manipulate  victories.  His  attach 
ment  to  Koth  was  ardent,  and  the  more  so  for 
the  very  traits  he  was  now  decrying.  We  im 
mediately  followed  on  the  nearly  effaced  tracks 
of  Kothleit  and  the  wounded  man  through  the 
thickening  tempest  till  they  diverged,  and, 
leaving  the  stranger's  foot-prints  to  me,  Pike 
pursued  Tom's.  I  traced  the  white  tracks  zig 
zagging  from  bluff  to  bluff  till  it  led  to  the  scene 
of  the  Mexican's  treachery.  Here  I  saw  the 
man  looking  about  in  the  ravine  below,  and, 
attracting  his  attention,  he  looked  to  me  and 
said:  "  I  have  given  you  more  trouble;  sorry 


112         CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD   SCENES. 


you  came  after  me.  I  was  seeking  the  spot  of 
last  night's  peril.  This  is  it.  I  must  have 
fallen  from  the  bluff  to  your  right,  for  I  found 
my  pack  lodged  in  the  brush  at  its  base.  Noth 
ing  lost.  It  has  twenty  pounds  of  gold  in  it 
besides  my  blankets.  1  '11  meet  you  round  the 
angle." 

As  we  sauntered  to  the  camp  he  told  me  he 
had  left  Both  asleep,  he  supposed,  and  said: 

"  I  am  going  to ,  to  meet  my  partner;  am 

a  Virginian;  been  lost  in  the  mountains  two 
days.  In  my  wilderment  every  vista  in  the 
jungle  seemed  a  trail.  Several  times  each  day 
1  crossed  my  own  tracks;  and  the  first  time  I 
did  so  I  pursued  them  hastily,  and  shouted  to 
the  man  ahead  of  me,  as  I  supposed,  from 
time  to  time  before  discovering  the  mistake. 
I  came  upon  the  Mexican  intent  to  cross  a  tor 
rent.  He  politely  replied  to  my  inquiries,  and 
proposed,  as  I  was  far  astray,  to  pilot  me  to 
his  friends'  camp  to  spend  the  night,  whence 
I  could  proceed  safely  and  without  difficulty. 
On  nearing  your  camp,  after  worrying  in  the 
darkness  through  tangles  of  spurs  and  chap 
arrals  some  hours,  he  said  it  was  the  camp  we 
were  seeking.  But  he  seemed  to  be  restive 
and  paused — proceeded,  paused.  I  cannot  ac 
count  for  it,  but  I  felt  in  the  moment  an  al- 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        113 

most  tangible  horror  seize  me — a  sense  of  mur 
der's  presence;  its  red  corpse  with  stretched- 
open  eyes  seemed  to  glare  at  me,  and  in  the  mo 
ment  his  thuggee-stab  staggered  me,  and  I  knew 
I  was  falling  from  the  precipice,  when  sensibili 
ty  fled.  The  next  things  I  remember  are  a  sharp 
pain  and  a  feeling  of  being  wrapped  in  a  blank 
et,  and  the  words:  'There,  an't  you  more  com 
fortable  so ?  I  am  Tom  Eothleit.  I'll  stick 
to  you  like  a  brother.  You  shall  be  at  the  fire 
presently.'  I  could  not  speak,  could  not  move; 
but  1  recalled  every  thing.  My  heart  gave  a 
bound  of  strange  joy,  a  tender  hand  glided  over 
my  wounds,  my  brain  reeled,  whirled,  whirled 
and  T  was  insensible  again.  The  rest  you  know. 
But  is  not  the  Mexican's  conduct  unaccounta 
ble  ?  If  robbery  was  his  object,  why  did  he  de 
lay  till  we  neared  the  fire?  If  murder  only, 
his  opportunities  were  many,  and  where  human 
intervention  was  impossible." 

As  the  day  wore  away,  he  and  Mack  tested 
their  strength  by  climbing  up  the  mountain 
two  hundred  feet  or  so  to  a  bench  from  whose 
points,  in  intervals  of  the  snow-fall,  they 
could  behold  the  wonders  the  frost  had 
painted  on  crags  and  peaks  and  forests  near 
and  distant.  It  was  an  hour  to  night  when 
Pike  returned  with  a  fine  deer.  He  replied  to 
8 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

my  query  concerning  Both  by  saying:  "The 
ornery  wretch  is  all  right,  except  he  's  been  be 
side  himself  more'n  ever  all  the  time;  an'  he 
are  nearly  frized  and  starved.  He  seed  Mack 
and  the  stranger  upon  the  side  o'  the  mountain, 
and  he  are  gone  thar  to  lead  'em  into  another 
fool  scrape,  as  he  has  me  to-day.  I  've  limped 
nigh  on  to  fifteen  mile,  for'ards  and  back'ards, 
a-huntin'  him  in  this  hurricane  to  fetch  him  in. 
He  were  goin'  right  from  camp  when  I  spied 
him ;  and  he  stands  to  it  that  he  were  a-goin' 
right  all  the  time.  He  were  the  wust  lost  man 
you  ever  seen.  When  I  showed  him  the  camp 
smoke  he  stuck  to  it,  it  were  a  ice-spout  and 
nothin'  else,  till  he  saw  the  man  up  thar  on  the 
bench  on  the  mountain  with  his  head  bound 
up.  He  carcumvented  him  this  morning  on- 
til  he  seen  he  weren't  cibbemted,  he  called  it; 
and  then  went  to  hunt  Snow-man  and  the  Mex 
ican.  But  here  they  come  now." 

"Who?"  said  I,  jumping  up;  "Snow-man 
and  the  Mexican?" 

"  No,  you  wood-head ! "  he  snapped  out ;  "  but 
Tom  and  t'  others.  He  says  when  the  uncom- 
monest  fool  were  made,  I  were  the  specimen 
turned  out;  that  you  would  hev  been  but  for  tho 
reason  nothin'  can't  be  made  out  o'  nothin'." 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         115 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

HE'S  FOLLERIN'  SATTAN. 


JN  a  day  or  two  we  journeyed  from 
"Tempest  Camp,"  as  we  had 
named  the  place,  and  at  noon 
lunched  standing,  using  the  don 
keys  for  tables,  the  waltzing  snow- 
flakes  giving  the  air  of  sprightliness  and  neat 
ness  to  board  and  contents.  Having,  Califor 
nia-like,  christened  the  wounded  man  Virgin 
ia,  the  name  of  the  State  he  hailed  from,  Pike, 
munching  a  bit  of  frozen  venison,  said:  "Vir- 
giny,  ef  Mexico  had  'ave  plunged  his  knife,  the 
last  blow,  a  inch  or  two  nearer  his  aim,  you 
could  n't  'ave  been  here  a-eatin'  deer-steak  off 
of  donkeys.  You  'd  'ave  been  under  a  big  snow 
drift  friz  harder  nor  a  icicle." 

Happy  smiles  suffused  his  face  at  Pike's  cool 
recall  of  the  perils  he  tiad  survived,  but  his  re 
ply  startled  the  group,  not  because  Providence 
was  habitually  sneered  at  in  the  gold-fields — 
for  the  reverse  is  true — but  by  reason  of  the  rev 
erence  and  intensity  of  faith  and  feeling  his 
Bimple  reply  conveyed,  as  he  said:  "Yes,  but 


116         CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

Mexico's  knife  in  the  snows  of  the  Sierras  was 
foiled  by  a  father's  whispers  in  the  far-away 
mists  of  Chesapeake  Bay,  speaking  my  name 
in  the  ear  of  God." 

"It  were  curious  whispers,"  Pike  replied, 
"that  turned  aside  that  Mexican's  knife.  His 
sort  are  true  to  Sattan,  and  together  murder  is 
almost  easier  to  them  than  mercy  is  to  God. 
There  are  many  clever  Mexicans,  but  he  were  n't 
one." 

"Only  soul- whispers,"  he  said,  "that  God 
answered  by  the  angel  that  dropped  me  off  the 
precipice  from  the  stab  of  Mexico  that  grazed 
next  the  heart." 

"  But  it  looks  to  me,"  rejoined  Pike,  "  ef  a 
angel  had  interfered  atwixt  you  and  Mexico, 
he  'd  a-drapped  him  instead  o'  you  over  the  bluff 
and  friz  him  thar  'tarnally.  I  believe,  though, 
that  prayers  brings  heavenly  folk  to  keep  arth- 
ly  ones  safe  sometimes.  Esau  were  injured  by 
Jacob,  but  Jacob  prayed  and  the  angels  of 
God  met  him  afore  Esau  did,  and  saftened 
Esau's  heart  to  forgive,  till  he  ran  an'  kissed 
Jacob.  I  have  allus  sided  with  Esau  in  that 
family  trouble.  The  bold,  poor,  keerless,  big- 
hearted  fool  Tom,  thar,  is  just  like  him." 

"Some  teach,"  I  interposed,  "that  Bible 
statements  of  angelic  rescues  are  as  preposter- 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SC£XE8.        117 


ous,  as  charming,  as  replete  with  chimera  as 
with  beauty,  and  should  be  eliminated  from 
the  faith  of  man." 

"Such  counsel  should  have  no  following," 
said  Virginia.  "In  its  last  analysis  it  is  only 
brassy  brilliance.  And  he  who  teaches  it  would 
rid  his  race  of  a  pestilence,  were  he  to  enact 
Ahithophel  in  a  Bible  statement  suggested  by 
these  donkey  tables;  it  reads:  'When  Ahitho 
phel  saw  that  his  counsel  was  not  followed,  he 
saddled  his  ass,  and  arose,  and  gat  him  home  to 
his  house,  to  his  city,  and  put  his  household  in 
order,  and  hanged  himself,  and  died,  and  was 
buried  in  the  sepulcher  of  his  father,' " 

"And,"  suggested  Tom,  "it  was  not  the  skep 
tic  literati,  whose  effrontery  scarcely  equals 
their  absurdities  and  shallowness,  who  said  to 
the  king,  'My  God  hath  sent  his  angel,  and  hath 
shut  the  lions'  mcuths,  that  they  have  not  hurt 
me,'  but  Daniel,  'skillful  in  all  wisdom,  tinder- 
standing  science,  and  kneeled  upon  his  knees 
three  times  a  day,  and  prayed  before  his  God.' 
And,  Quien,  with  the  doubts  you  rehearse,  you 
may  as  well  take  Virginia  at  his  word,  go  like 
Ahithophel  and  die,  and  be  buried  in  the  sep 
ulcher  of  your  father;  it  will  be  warmer  than 
this  snow-storm." 

"Tom,"  interposed   Pike,  "you   are  flutter- 


118         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

Bomer  of  words  nor  a  flutter-mill  are  o'  water- 
draps.  Why  did  n't  you  tell  him  at  onct,  and  be 
done  with  it,  that  the  Scrip tur  says  thusly  and 
BO;  an'  ef  he  's  no  sensibler  than  to  believe  rock- 
head  sciencers  afore  Scriptur,  he's  follerin' 
Sattan  and  agoin'  to  him.  That 's  your  mean- 
in',  the  whole  on  it." 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        119 


CHAPTER  XV. 

SNOW-BALLING  WITH  SNOW-CLOUDS. 

HE  next  day's  slow  course  filled 
us  with  dismay*  Alp-like  groups 
environed  us.  We  were  going 
into  instead  of  out  o£  the  Sier 
ras.  The  clouds,  like  moving  ice- 
worlds,  grated  and  fretted  over  us.  Stalactic 
icicles  fell  in  fragments  along  our  frigid  way, 
or  depended  from  the  saplings  to  the  snow- 
beds.  The  iced  firs  and  pines,  whose  foliages  of 
prismy  leaves,  like  snow-blossoms,  were  ever 
whispering  the  tempest,  dropped  their  pearly 
petals  upon  us.  The  clumpy  thickets,  each  twig 
a  crystal,  limbs  interlocked,  holding  specimen 
brilliants  of  varied  shapes  molded  by  the  ge 
nius  of  the  frost,  made  the  waste  look  like  a 
"World's  Fair"  of  fine  glass— each  tiny  and 
larger  vessel  ringing  melodies  at  pleasure  of 
/Eolus;  while  creation— bathing,  ever  bathing 
in  the  snow-floods,  throwing  upon  every  thing 
shrouds  woven  by  the  spirits  of  the  storm- 
waited  above,  beneath,  about  us,  till  we  felt  like 
muffled  sighs  tossed  from  blast  to  blast. 


120        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

We  were  lost  in  the  wild  of  ice,  floundering 
in  the  Sierras'  sea  of  snow.  Pike  stood  upon 
his  head  "to  git  the  right  bearin'e,"  he  said; 
Virginia  whistled  "  Yankee  Doodle;"  Tom  fol 
lowed  Mack  and  me  from  shrub  to  shrub  as 
we  chopped  tender  branches  and  frailed  the 
sleet  off  for  the  donkey's  forage,  and  charged 
us  to  embalm  and  send  him  home  to  Leina; 
"for,"  he  said,  "she  would  n't  like  for  me  to  be 
buried  in  any  such  a  devilish  country  as  this." 

Just  then  we  were  arrested  by  Pike's  shrill 
whistle,  and  looking  in  the  direction  he  pointed 
we  beheld  a  splendid  buck  bounding  across  the 
plateau;  and,  as  he  passed  a  thicket,  a  grizzly 
darkened  his  pale  path,  quick  as  a  twinkle,  and 
slew  him  in  mid-air.  Between  foot-lift  and 
footfall  glowy  with  life,  rigid  in  death,  bruin 
sprung  to  his  victim  and  placed  his  paw  upon 
him,  then  bent  over  and  took  his  neck  between 
his  jaws  and  crunched  it,  and  reared  upon  his 
haunches  and  leered  at  us. 

"He's  a  Sattan!"  exclaimed  Pike;  "come, 
we  '11  speak  to  him  with  rifles  'bout  that  trick." 

As  we  -approached,  the  bear  started  into  the 
thicket,  but  dashed  suddenly  back  with  a  fierce 
growl,  bounding  upon  us  amid  pelting  bullets, 
and  was  in  less  than  twenty  paces  of  us  when 
Pike's  rifle  was  leveled  and  fired,  apparently  in 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        121 

the  same  moment,  and  he  tossed  back— a  quiv 
ering  mass — for  the  bullet  had  crashed  through 
his  brain. 

"That  shot  saved  us,"  said  Mack,  "for  not 
another  pierced  him.  I  shot  for  the  heart." 

"And  you  did  n't  miss  it  fur,"  said  Pike  as 
he  pointed  to  a  little  red  spot;  "  that  draps  from 
mighty  near  your  mark.  A  old  Texas-ranger, 
though,  do  n't  often  make  as  bad  a  shot  as  that, 
Mack.  You  an't  in  practice  of  late.  Shot  'mos' 
too  quick.  An  Injun  would  a-got  you,  ef  your 
pistol  hadn't  a-follered  up  your  rifle  quick,  and 
truer  o'  aim." 

Taking  from  him  his  robe  of  fur  to  sleep  upon, 
and  a  few  pounds  of  steak,  we  left  the  carcass 
with  the  greater  part  of  the  deer,  and  a  half- 
mile  farther  on  camped  in  an  angle  of  huge 
rocks.  Shortly  after  dark  the  howl  of  hoarse- 
mouthed  wolves,  mixing  with  the  shriller  voices 
of  the  tempest,  assured  us  that  bruin  and  his 
buck  were  soon  to  be  no  more,  even  in  carcass. 
Several  crept  across  the  fire-line  watching  us 
with  glarry  eyes,  whose  glances  we  answered 
by  bullets  to  the  death  of  one  of  the  band.  He 
fell  when  about  to  attain  his  wolfy  ambition, 
a  fat  carcass;  like  man  halted  by  death's  bolt 
in  the  very  glitter  of  the  carcanet  he  rejects 
heaven  for,  but  is  never  to  wear.  Indeed,  we 


122        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


were  all  near  concluding  that  we  would  ex 
change  all  the  linked  wonders  of  gold  to  be  out 
of  the  congealed  wonders  of  nature,  that  froze 
us  in  on  every  side. 

At  times  through  the  night  the  tempest  sough 
ing  through  the  jungle,  growling  round  the  crags, 
was  appalling.  Every  now  and  then  a  monster 
crash  wailed  in  the  darkness  as  a  peak  shook 
from  his  brow  a  midnight  avalanche;  while 
occasionally  the  awful  rush  and  roar  were  sev 
eral  times  repeated  in  quick  succession,  as 
though  the  gods  dethroned  in  Olympus  had 
refuged  here  and  were  snow-balling  one  another 
with  snow-clouds.  Amid  their  lumbering  ca 
rousal,  Pike  said :  "  Ef  we  jest  had  a  par  o'  com 
passes,  we'd  skeet  out  o'  this  muss  like  monk 
eys  out  o'  cocoa-nut-trees.  Them  ar  little  things 
is  smart  as  Both  thinks  he  are.  They  says  noth- 
in'  and  pilots  right;  he's  'tarnally  directin'  and 
allus  wrong." 

Before  Tom,  in  his  low-spirited  condition, 
could  reply,  Virginia  took  from  the  cover  of  a 
small  book  a  jewel  not  larger  than  a  thumb 
nail,  and  placed  it  in  Pike's  hand,  having  in  the 
wilderment  of  all  the  tempestuous  days  forgot 
ten  it.  Pike  held  it  in  his  leveled  palm  and 
its  diminutive  needle  clipped,  whirled,  trem 
bled,  then  stood  quivering,  pointing  due  north. 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         123 

"  Hooray !  hooray ! ' '  exclaimed  Pike.  "  Whar 
did  you  git  it?" 

"  Two  years  ago,"  replied  Virginia,  "  when  I 
was  starting  to  the  gold-fields — a  blue-eyed 
Kentucky  lass  gave  me  the  Testament  with  the 
golden  compass  in  its  clasp." 

"And  you  an't  read  it  neither,"  said  Pike; 
"  it 's  bright  as  the  compasses." 

"  O  yes  I  have,  but  with  washed  hands,"  re 
plied  Virginia;  "read  it  again  and  again." 

"But  with  washed  hands!"  said  Pike;  "that's 
as  much  as  to  say  to  me,  '  Do  n't  you  tech  the 
book  until  you  run  a  bushel  o'  snow  through 
your  smoked  hands.' " 

"  Not  a  word  of  it,"  he  said  pleasantly ;  "  there.19 

Pike  took  the  book,  handling  it  tenderly  as 
though  he  thought  it  to  be  a  flower  from  heaven, 
turned  a  few  pages,  and  exclaimed:  "Waal! 
an't  she  a  critter  for  beauty?  What's  you 
a-sayin',  Mum?" 

And  she  was  beautiful — that  blonde  Ken- 
tuckian  whose  picture  he  had  found  between 
the  book's  pure  pages;  and  sheltering  it  from 
the  snow-flakes  he  scanned,  by  the  fire-light, 
her  sun-print,  with  the  clear  eye  of  as  gentle 
and  brave  a  heart  as  ever  flashed  admiration. 

We  were  all  happier  after  beholding  the  se 
rene  shadow.  She  noted  not  the  storm  nor 


124        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

heeded  the  gods  carousing  among  the  crags; 
but  looked  quietly,  cheerily,  trustingly  into  our 
eyes  amid  the  flutter  of  the  tempest  and  the 
riffcless  gloom  of  the  dark  night.  On  her  right 
a  vase  of  japonicas,  roses,  and  lilies  stood;  and 
in  her  lap  a  bunch  of  smaller  flowers  nestled 
in  green  leaflets.  Her  left-hand  rested  upon 
an  open  book,  her  right  clasped  a  locket;  and 
from  her  neck  a  medallion  drooped  on  her 
bosom.  She  said  nothing,  yet  there  were  the 
fresh  lips  that  had  spoken  words  of  love,  sung 
many  pure  sentiments,  and  said,  "  Our  Father 
who  art  in  heaven."  There  were  her  eyes  that 
had  showered  many  smiles,  and  possibly  many 
tears — for  even  gentle  woman  weeps  this  side 
heaven.  I  never  saw  it  so  that  I  did  not  feel 
that  sin  is  an  ungallant  monster. 

That  which  makes  woman  weep  other  than 
tears  of  joy,  or  sympathy,  or  saintly  penitence, 
is  an  unmitigated  shape  of  evil;  and  he  who  oc 
casions  it  is  a  wretch,  though  purpled  \vith  pow 
er  and  fame  and  worldly  pleasures,  and  hon 
ored  by  her  love.  She  is  God's  smile  upon  the 
path  of  man.  However  fallen,  hou'ever  fallen, 
the  germ  of  the  angel  lies  budding  in  her  heart. 
And  when  robed  in  knowledge  and  innocence, 
her  presence  is  a  charm  that  attaches  man  to 
the  heavenly  and  the  trtio. 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        125 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THAT   LION  WERE  A  GIRL-LIOtf. 

[P  was  an  hour  to  day-break  ere 
we  were  out  of  our  frosty  bed. 
The  storm  had  taken  on  a  darker 
hue ;  the  snow  was  harder,  round 
er,  like  white  shot.  We  had 
given  our  faces  a  snow-bath,  and  were  turning 
one  cheek  to  the  fire,  then  the  other,  when  Pike, 
quietly  catching  up  his  rifle,  stepped  between 
the  blaze  and  some  object,  trying  to  catch  an 
aim  on  it.  Again  and  again  he  tried,  while 
we  were  intently  peering  into  the  darkness. 
Presently  we  beheld  the  fierce,  beautiful  glare 
of  eyes  flashing  full  upon  us  a  moment  like 
fiery  stars,  then  disappearing,  now  appearing, 
now  gone  out;  and  for  a  minute's  space  the 
startling  specters  went  and  came,  when  the 
crack  of  the  rifle  started  us  from  almost  under 
our  scalps.  There  were  a  few  leaps  toward  us, 
and  within  the  fire-circle  the  writhing  form  of 
the  California  lioness  rolled  upon  the  ice  floor, 
and  bounded  back  into  the  darkness  as  the 
ready  volley  of  pistols  echoed  in  "the  jungle. 


126        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

We  listened  to  the  irregular  bounds  of  the 
lithe  creature  speeding  into  the  thick  night 
till  its  crash  upon  the  snow  could  be  heard  no 
more.  Pike  turned  to  the  fire,  and  said:  "I  've 
killed  many  deer  at  night  by  shining  their 
eyes;  but  that  brownish  varmint  shot  red  coals 
out  o'  hers  at  me  too  onconstant  for  me  to 
draw  a  bead  atween  'em;  so  she's  'scaped. 
She  were  arter  the  donkeys,  but  Tom's  pretti- 
ness  aside  of  them  struck  her  all  aheap,  and 
while  she  were  a'mirin'  of  him  I  saluted  her. 
She  are  a  gal,  you  may  be  sure;  for  they  is 
allus  a-pryin'  into  things,  a-gettin'  into  mis 
chief.  They's  been  curious  ever  sence  and 
afore  one  on  'em  bit  a  apple.  Ef  I  were  mar 
ried  to  one  o'  them  consarns,  I  'd  keep  her  allus 
mighty  loving.  I  'd  let  on  that  I  knowed  some 
what  that  ought  n't  to  be  told  nohow  to  no 
body,  and  she'd  honey  me  to  crack  o'  doom 
a-hopin'  to  fuddle  it  from  me.  I  tell  you,  boys, 
that  lion  were  a  gal;  for  nothin'  but  gal  curi 
osity  could  'ave  drawed  her  out  her  cave  in  sich 
a  storm.  They  's  allus  bent  on  goin'  where 
and  when  they  oughtn't  to,  I've  heern  tell. 
She  'd  better  been  in  her  pa's  parler  among  the 
rocks;  or  ef  she's  married,  she'd  much  better 
been  brushin'  her  husband's  furry  coat  and 
whiskers  at  home.  But  that 's  the  last  thing 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  -SCENES.         127 


they  ever  is,  satisfied  to  stay  at  home.  They  soon 
curious  through  home  things,  an'  must  prance 
round  in  their  pretty  gear  to  see  e£  all  the 
fools  is  married  yet,  or  to  see  the  sights,  an' 
diskiver  the  secrets  of  their  own  kind.  Won 
der  they  do  n't  run  theirselves  off  their  insteps 
a-curiousing  into  things.  But  one  thing  are 
sartin,  they 's  the  beautifulest  thing  in  natur. 
That  lion's  eyes  an't  a  carcumstance  o'  splen 
dor  aside  of  theirs.  And  arter  all,  they  's  the 
best  things  in  natur.  Their  voice  is  music, 
their  tech  is  life.  I  were  wounded  once  in 
Mexico,  and  one  o'  them  black-eyed  Mexican 
critters  brought  me  the  things  I  'd  axed  for, 
but  I  did  n't  have  sense  enough  to  know  I  want 
ed  'em.  She  were  cream-colored,  except  each 
cheek  were  a  pink.  She  had  orange-blossoms 
in  her  black  hair,  and  allus  carried  a  han'ful  o' 
boquays.  She  'd  be  round  a  dozen  on  us  at  a 
time.  A  kind  word,  a  smile,  a  bright  flower, 
a  saft  tech,  a  sasserful  o'  just  the  things  we 
needed,  an'  away  she  tripped,  like  the  inner- 
cent  she  were,  to  make  another  squad  feel  bet 
ter  and  think  better  of  her  race.  Arter  that, 
ef  I  sighted  a  Mexican  in  battle,  and  he  were 
at  all  like  her,  I'd  shoot  somebody  else;  for 
her  eyes  would  'pear  to  be  thar  a-sayin', '  That 's 
my  brother,'  or  'That's  my  sweet' art;'  and  I 


128        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


couldn't  a-shot  'em  ef  old  Zack  Taylor  had 
been  thar  sayin',  '  Shoot  'em,  Kacket;  shoot 
'em ! '  But  that 's  neither  here  nor  thar.  That 
lion  were  a  girl-lion,  curiousing  around  in  her 
brown  furs,  a-seein'  what  she  could  see." 

"Missing  your  lionly  mark,  Pike,"  said  Vir 
ginia,  "  makes  you  piquant.  Curiosity,  unless 
it  pries  and  is  unkind,  discounts  neither  the 
lioness  nor  one  of  those  black-eyed  Mexican 
creatures  with  hair  full  of  orange-blossoms. 
Polished,  reticent,  chaste,  it  is  a  grace  that 
should  note  and  report  only  charming  discov 
eries." 

"  It  should  be  the  humming-bird,"  suggest 
ed  Mack,  "observing  the  sweets  and  beauties 
of  each  flower,  fluttering  soft  music,  pausing 
on  tremulous  wing  to  chirp  a  song  of  the  elix 
irs — not  the  poisons — it  uncaps.  Here,  there, 
everywhere,  touching  every  thing  gracefully 
that  is  sweet  and  beautiful,  this  fairy  of  the 
flower-yard  is  delightedly  welcomed  by  the  old 
and  the  young.  Each  is  quiet  lest  the  tiny 
grace  miss  a  blossom  or  chirp  a  note  less  ere 
it  disappears  to  wake  May-day  in  other  hearts, 
humming  none  but  cheery  stories  of  the  sad 
and  glad  flowers  it  had  shimmered  before. 
Voyaging  from  sweet  scene  to  sweet  scene 
only,  it  darts  around  or  skips  over  from  sight 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD- FIELD  SCENES.        129 


of  all  that  is  not  fragrant,  lest  its  nice  ear 
should  catch  a  harsh  sound,  or  its  sensitive  eye 
be  smitten  by  a  blightful  color,  or  its  chaste 
wing  be  burdened  by  an  ill,  or  its  flossy  bosom 
be  ruffled  by  a  rude  breath,  find  its  dainty 
tongue  give  an  evil  and  not  a  kindly  note." 

"When  it's  that  way,"  rejoined  Pike,  "it 
are  good  and  right.  But  more  'n  like  that — I 
mean  too  of'n— it  are  like  a  sarpent  trailing 
through  the  flower-gardens  of  serciety  break 
ing  down  and  pizining  the  sweetest  blooms. 
And  womankind  an't  got  the  most  on  it  neither. 
Lestways  I  Ve  seen  a  heap  o'  men  as  spouts  it, 
as  like  enough  they  might  be  sea-sarpents  in 
that  line.  They 's  to  be  targets  for  Indian  ar 
rows  at  short  range,  wus  nor  the  lion  a-tryin' 
to  make  even  a  innercent  donkey  a  prey." 
9 


130        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

IN  A  TANGLE  OF  DREAMS— I  MUST  SEE  THAT 
RIVER  OF  STONE. 


UIDED  by  the  little  compass,  we 
turned  westward.  Depth  nor 
height  nor  tempest  veered  its 
bright  point  from  its  polaric 
mark;  for  like  woman's  heart, 
however  it  throbbed  and  vibrated  at  the  tumult, 
as  if  repulsion  to  evil  inhered,  it  was  defiantly 
true  to  its  invisible  love. 

At  times  the  dervishes  of  the  storm  tripped 
us  from  our  footing  as  they  leaped  by,  deco 
rating  our  path  with  white  garlands;  or  the 
snow-queen  threw  he.r  foamy  veil  over  us  in 
folds  thick  enough  to  blind  us.  But  at  night 
we  halted  in  a  group  of  tough  oaks,  and  bank 
ing  the  snow  around  us  four  or  five  feet  high, 
we  collected  logs  and  limbs  for  an  all-night 
fire.  About  midnight  the  roar  of  the  tempest 
ceased,  the  winds  were  at  rest.  The  jungle 
was  noiseless  as  Tyre's  forest  of  marble  col 
umns  dreaming  in  the  pale  sea,  except  at  long 
intervals  a  sleet-clad  pine  unbound  his  snow- 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         131 


crown,  and  shattered  it  upon  the  white  forum. 
In  the  mystic  calm  our  senses  were  keen  yet 
soothed.  The  quivering  din  of  the  storm  was 
replaced  by  the  silent  flow  of  lethe  flooding  its 
wake,  and  bathing  us  in  a  freshet  of  soft  sen 
sations.  Yet  the  snow  fell,  but  so  quietly  we 
knew  it  not  by  sound,  and  in  the  hush  the  wil 
derness,  like  a  nearly  drowned  Triton  escaped 
to  shore,  breathed  sighs  of  -relief,  till  the  stars 
flooded  the  cleared  heavens  and  the  icy  earth 
with  brightness.  Our  hearts  became  as  quiet 
as  nature's  sleep,  amid  the  softness  and  beauty 
of  the  downflow  of  tho  star-flood;  and  we 
stepped  without  tho  circle  of  the  fire-light  to 
drink  in  the  scene's  witchery.  The  thousands 
of  icicles  were  like  crystal  prisms  bathing  in 
and  reflecting  pale  flames,  and  the  tree-boughs 
and  all  shrubs  drooping  with  ice  momentarily 
imprisoned  and  loosed  from  their  shimmery 
caresses  the  sky  rays,  till  every  thing  seemed 
arrayed  in  diamonds  of  changeful  glamours. 

I  unconsciously  moved  on  till  a  ridge  was 
placed  between  me  and  the  camp,  and  was  be 
holding  the  pale  waste,  and  listening  to  the 
music  the  zephyrs,  like  invisible  bell-ringers, 
w^ere  ringing  from  the  silvery  ice-bells,  when 
an  unearthly  "  Halloo-o-oo ! "  startled  me,  till  I 
rolled  pell-mell  down  the  hill,  loosening  as  I 


132         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

went  hundreds  of  shattered  icicles,  scaling, 
ringing,  clattering  into  the  frozen  gorge.  I 
picked  myself  up  industriously,  however,  and 
answered  the  call.  A  hatless  German  at  ones 
advanced  to  me.  A  blanket,  through  whose 
center  he  had  thrust  his  bald  head,  dropped 
in  frozen  folds  about  his  fat  form,  and  he 
said:  "Lose  mein  way.  No  stopt;  no  preat,  no 
lager,  no  schmoke,  no  nuclding,  but  stirm  since 
yester  morn;  find  plenty  wulfs,  pite  preeches- 
leg,  pite  hat;  coldt  hedt,  foot,  potty,  all  over; 
whew!  Peen  mining  one  fool  gulch,  no  golt; 
want  lager,  start  to  trade -post,  snow  thick, 
wind  blowt  hedt  all  wrong,  no  know  nudding, 
go  all  'pouts,  wulfs  roat,  pite  at  me  up  tree,  runs 
me  pout  veer  meucht,  gits  hadt;  whew! " 

Pike's  face  twitched  with  humor  as  the  Ger 
man  repeated  his  story  at  the  camp;  but  as  he 
was  appeasing  his  hunger  with  coffee  and  deer 
and  bread,  Pike  said:  t"When  the  troops 
were  marchin'  atween  Saltillo  and  Jalapa  in 
the  Mexican  scrimmage,  I  fell  out.  of  ranks 
with  the  army  cramps,  that  was  cholery  or 
something  as  bad,  and  the  ambulance  missed 
me.  That  night  as  I  lay  alone  expectin'  to 
die  with  the  stars  awinkin'  and  laughin'  at 
me,  a  Dutchman  lifted  my  head  and  put  his 
coat  under  me,  and  kivered  me  with  his 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        133 


blanket,  and  poured  a  mixter  down  my  throat 
that  wern't  hard  to  swallow;  an'  next  day  got 
me  to  a  safe  place.  He  were  chubby,  an'  his 
head  were  bound  up  like  Virginy's,  for  a  Mex 
ican  lance  had  gashed  it,  and  the  hithen 
creeturs  were  scrougin'  through  the  country 
in  bands.  I  told  him  to  vamose,  or  some  o'  the 
Sattans  would  ketch  him  ef  he  staid  by  me  that 
night,  and  drift  a  spear  into  his  saft  heart. 
He  said:  '  Dat  nudding,  I  stickts  der  you;  I  safes 
you,  den  I  runs  midt  all  mem  foots.' " 

"Yah,  Racket,"  said  the  German,  who  had 
recognized  him  by  the  story;  "I  no  runs  dat 
nighdt,  safes  mein  foots  to  run  dis  nighdt  from 
dere  wulfs  dat  pites  de  preeches  veer  meucht 
up  dere  tree." 

"Well,  Heinrich,"  Pike  replied,  "you  are 
about  the  welcomest  lost  man  that  ever  got  to 
a  friend's  camp.  Ef  it  wern't  for  your  coming 
we  might  believe  we  was  in  the  valley  o'  death 
among  the  mountains  where  the  silence  deepens 
on  a  mortal  till  he  comes  to  a  dead  halt." 

"Dat  one  forebode,"  answered  Heinrich, 
"dat  never  git  into  mein  hedt.  Dis  no  dedt 
valley.  It  one  flower  vorld.  De  trees,  dey 
flowers  of  ice.  Dere  twigs,  dere  pig  and  schmal 
limbs,  pe  nudding  but  white  flowers,  like  pig 
white  clumps  of  flossy  feathers.  De  shrubs 


134        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

pe  ice-blossoms  dat  sing  if  you  touch  'em ;  and 
de  snow  pes  sky-flowers  clipped  off  de  clouds, 
singing  troe  de  air  coming  to  de  vorld  to  dress 
it  mit  white  raiments.  No  dedt  valley;  one 
flower  vorld." 

"That,"  said  Mack,  "is  at  least  Germanic. 
Your  tribe  not  only  fight  well,  but  invest  every 
thing  with  music  and  flowers." 

"And  lager,"  added  Pike. 

"And  literature,"  said  Tom. 

"And  labor,"  said  Yirginia. 

"An'  safes  der  foots  der  run  from  de  wulfs, 
wid  der  preeches-leg  pite  oil  in  de  stirm," 
answered  Heinrich,  looking  at  his  tattered 
trousers. 

Heinrich  was  scarcely  thawed  and  warmed 
ere  the  south-west  blast  was  again  soughing 
through  the  rugged  congelations,  piling  dark 
clouds  over  us,  pushing  them  against  the  crags, 
hurling  them  through  the  clefts  in  the  mount 
ains,  grinding  them  together,  till  in  fretted 
helplessness,  dissolving  in  the  elemental  strife, 
they  snowed,  as  Pike  said,  "  thicker  an'  faster 
nor  I  ever  see  afore." 

Virginia,  the  while,  was  in  a  tangle  of  dreams 
it  seemed;  for  though  his  eyes  were  open 
and  bright,  his  lips  were  sealed,  and  he  replied 
to  queries  even  by  signs  instead  of  sounds. 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         135 

Pike,  trying  to  shell  him  out,  said:  "Virginy 
'minds  me  to-night  o'  a  Cherokee  human  we 
called  Eiver  Dick.  He  mined,  or  rather  'bibed, 
nigh  onto  a  river  of  rock  not  fur  from  Sinora. 
He  'd  watched  fur  a  stranger  to  be  a-comin'  by, 
an'  meet  him  outside  o'  the  crowd,  an'  say  sor- 
rowfuller  nor  death:  'I-I-are  near-lee  starved; 
had  nuthin'  fur  gwine  on  three  days;  seeh-how 
my  v-voice  trembles  an'  han's  shakes;  can't 
scacely  talk,  s-so  weak.  L-le-let  me  hev  a 
ha-half  d-dollar  ter  git  so-some  cheese  an'  fo 
b-bread  afore  death  c-c-comes,  plase.' " 

"  In  course  he  got  the  money,  an'  he  'd  go 
to  whar  the  bread  an'  cheese  was,  but  allus 
'vested  the  funds  in  whisky;  an'  then  be  a 
dyin'  the  same  way  ag'in.  Virginy  is  solernner 
nor  Biver  Dick  a-dyin'  arter  grog." 

Virginia's  dream  being  too  sad  or  too  sweet 
to  yield  to  Pike's  grenade,  Mack  said:  "That 
river  of  stone  is  one  of  the  gold-field  wonders. 
I  was  skirring  up  a  picturesque  gorge  north  of 
it  when  I  first  beheld  it.  From  the  head  of 
the  gorge  to  its  top  is  more  than  a  hundred 
feet.  Its  sides  are  perpendicular  for  much  of 
its  outcrop  at  that  point;  its  surface  level,  ex 
cept  conglomerate  bowlders,  some  sealed  to  the 
surface  as  if  melted  to  it,  lay  about  like  huddles 
of  black  cattle  sleeping  on  its  bosom.  It  is 


136         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


over  three  hundred  feet  broad.  It  is  a  river 
of  rock  without  banks,  whose  stone  current, 
swirled  bluffy  up,  flows  on  noiselessly  toward 
the  great  plains  that  bank  the  San  Joaquin 
tules.  On  its  south  side  a  beautiful  little 
plain  rolls  against  it  twenty  or  thirty  feet  below 
its  brink.  Its  walls  and  surface  and  wind 
ings  and  scoria  suggest  that  in  a  fused  state 
it  had  run  down  the  channel  of  a  river,  burying 
its  waters,  or  tossing  them  into  another  bed, 
by  its  red  floods  cooling  there.  It  appears 
that  the  hills  had  been  pulled  away  from  it  by 
the  hands  of  many  centuries;  or  the  throb  of 
an  earthquake  had  heaved  the  huge  serpentine 
mass  up  above  surroundings,  and  left  it  so,  to 
attest  its  awful  power,  whose  throes  tumble 
mountains,  or  raise  them,  grind  the  rolling 
plains  and  fill  the  earth  with  quaking  till  its 
populations  die  amid  falling  groves  and  col 
umns." 

The  description  was  lost  upon  Tom  at  least, 
except  to  suggest  to  him  one  thought.  For  he 
exclaimed:  "There  lies  our  pile!  A  tunnel 
drifted  under  the  foundations  of  that  river  of i 
stone  will  bring  us  into  the  gold  deposits  ac 
cumulated  by  ages;  or,  likely,  uncap  to  us  the 
original  smithy  where  the  precious  metal  was 
first  made  on  this  coast;  and  wo  shall  have  to 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         137 

charter  the  line  of  steam-ships  to  convey  our 
tons  of  gold  home." 

His  early -clay  phantasy  possessed  him  with 
wild  visions,  and  made  him  a  tony  again.  His 
eyes  and  voice  quivered  with  delight,  and  his 
face  was  wrapped  in  ecstasy.  I  should  have 
regretted  Mack's  matter-of-fact  way,  had  it  not 
been  plain  that  Tom  was  too  bewitched  by  the 
gold -phantom  then  to  consider  any  thing. 
Mack  replied:  "Probably  a  shaft  must  be  sunk 
two  thousand  feet  before  the  drift  under  the 
river-bed  can  be  made ;  and  your  son,  Tommy, 
will  be  a  great-grandfather  before  the  work; 
may  be  accomplished.  I  prefer  lighter  and 
more  accessible  diggings." 

"I  must  see  that  river  of  stone,"  said  Vir 
ginia;  "though  amid  its  description  I  have 
been  a  journey  upon  memory's  river.  Just 
before  we  were  graduated  a  classmate  called  at 
my  room.  Nothing  could  bring  a  smile  to  his 
face;  and  I  urged  him  to  let  me  share  his 
trouble.  He  said:  'It  is  my  chosen  calling  for 
life  that  almost  unmans  me — the  ministry.  If 
the  leaders  in  Church  affairs  were  like  Chris 
tianity,  loving  and  large-hearted,  the  people, 
who  follow,  would  be  likewise.  But  they  sadly 
cramp  ministers  by  captiousness,  and  doled 
salaries,  and  leaving  to  them  many  Church 


138         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

cares  they  would  be  happier  and  more  useful 
to  share.  There  are  exceptional  congregations, 
but  unhappily  the  rule  bears  hardly  upon  min 
isters.  In  other  professions  equal  attainments 
and  toik  lead  to  bountiful  and  pleasant  sur- 
roundingb  for  families.  When  my  father,  who 
was  a  minister,  died,  an  old  friend  of  his,  not 
a  member  of  the  Church,  proposed  to  put  me 
through  college,  and  give  me  time  to  repay  his 
advances.  He  did  it  so  nicely  it  would  have 
been  almost  insulting  to  have  declined.  I  re 
ceived  a  letter  from  him  to-day  inclosing  my 
notes  receipted,  and  a  sum  of  money  besides, 
stating  that  he  had  heard  I  should  preach,  and 
it  would  help  me  start  a  library.  I  can  accept 
neither  the  notes  nor  the  inclosure.  For  apart 
from  other  reasons  he  has  had  reverses  of  late, 
and  his  family  is  large.  But  his  letter  has 
forever  settled  my  purpose  to  preach.  There 
may  be  many  spirits  like  him;  possibly  I  may 
be  useful  to  some  of  them,  and  to  others.' 

"Two  years  after  that  I  was  visiting  in  a 
Kentucky  village,  and  on  Sabbath,  to  my  joyful 
surprise,  my  old  classmate  rose  in  the  pulpit. 
He  closed  the  service  by  inviting  to  Church- 
membership.  An  old  farmer  was  received  into 
the  Church,  and  said:  ' Friends,  from  a  child 
we  have  known  this  young  man  who  has 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        139 

preached  to  us  to-day.  His  father  went  up  to 
heaven  from  amongst  us,  and  when  he  died  I 
determined  to  follow  him  as  he  followed  Christ. 
I  know  I  can  never  be  like  him;  but  help  me 
to  try.' 

"I  got  my  old  classmate  to  dine  with  me; 
and  when  we  entered  our  room  he  stood  wiOi 
his  hand  upon  my  shoulder,  and  said:  'Jack, 
he  that  joined  the  Church  to-day  is  the  man 
who  helped  me  through  college.  I  made  by 
book-keeping  money  to  pay  him  all  he  had 
advanced  to  me.  When  I  took  it  to  him,  he 
said:  "Frank,  boy,  don't  do  that.  I  can't  take 
it.  I  have  always  wished  to  do  something 
good;  indeed,  I  think  nearly  everybody  does. 
Don't  you  spoil  my  hopes,  lad.  When  my 
little  Carrie,  your  playmate,  died,  your  father 
soothed  her  mother's  heart  and  mine  with  many 
a  kind  word  and  delicate  attention.  And  for  the 
love  I  bear  his  memory,  lad,  let  me  have  my 
way  in  this."  So  he  placed  the  money  in  a 
small  Testament,  and  gave  it  back  to  me,  and 
said,  The  book  is  for  your  sister.' " 

"And,"  added  Virginia,  "  she  is  the  blonde 
Kentucky  girl  I  showed  you,  the  other  night, 
among  the  Sierra  heights;  and  the  book  is  that 
Testament.  She  said  when  she  handed  it  to 
me:  'Jack,  I  only  lend  you  this  book;  it's 


140        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

part  of  my  heart;  you  must  bring  it  back 
safe.'" 

"  I  wish,"  said  Tom,  "  Frank  were  here,  and 
Leina,  too.  She  would  be  delighted  to  meet 
him;  her  grandfather  was  a  preacher. 

"Whew!  "  said  Pike,  "that  beats!  What  a 
fool,  a-wishin'  your  wife  were  in  the  Sierry 
Mountains  in  the  heart  of  this  f  rizzen  harricane 
to  see  Frank  that  ain't  here,  'cause  her  grandpa 
were  a  parson,  an'  he  the  wanderin'  son  o'  one." 

In  the  instant  that  he  closed  his  gibe,  Pike 
emptied  his  revolver  at  objects  we  had  neither 
heard  nor  seen,  but  amidst  the  "oughs"  of  re 
treating  wolves  one  of  them  leaped  upward  and 
fell  over  dead  in  a  few  feet  of  the  donkeys,  and 
Pike  added:  "Thar's  one  o'  them  keerless 
prnfessors  now,  Tom.  Come  help  dash  him 
in  the  gulf  jest  beyant  him,  or  we'll  hev 
more  'n  him  to  kill  afore  day  comes.  For  the 
rest  on  'em  will  come  back  to  eat  him — they 
loves  their  like." 

Tom  heeded  the  counsel;  and  we  were  all 
soon  asleep,  regarding  neither  rush  nor  lull  of 
the  tempest. 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        141 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

TANGLED  IN  THE  CORAL  BEEFS — 'CEPT  SHE  's 
POSSESST  O'  SATTAN. 

[HEN  we  awoke  the  sky  was  again 
clear,  the  morning-star  sifted  its 
purpling  rays  upon  gray  morn, 
and  the  sun,  clinging  to  the  tops 
of  the  crags,  threw  millions  of 
sparkles  upon  the  frosted  jungle,  till  height 
and  abysm  appeared  to  be  wrapped  in  a  con 
flagration  of  ether.  And  as  he  pushed  his 
face  up  full  above  the  snow-crowns,  and  scat 
tered  his  rays  directer  and  warmer  upon  every 
thing,  white  vapors,  like  waves  of  bridal-veils, 
tangled  in  the  tree-tops  and  unwinding  from 
the  icicles,  wafted  slowly  up  the  iced  crags,  and 
drooping  around  them  awhile  floated  on  up 
ward  higher  and  higher  into  the  bosom  of  the 
blue  vault.  But  we  had  journeyed  only  a  few 
miles  ere  the  heavens  were  again  overcast  with 
hard,  pale  clouds  that  moved  into  position 
between  us  and  the  sun,  till  the  canopy  above 
and  around  us  seemed  to  be  a  vast  shroud 


142        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


about  us,  and  again  we  were  whelmed  in  gusts 
of  snow  and  sleet. 

Pike  said:  "This  are  a  suddint  change. 
Both,  may  be  we  've  got  into  the  windy  sea  o' 
Jewery  that  you  talks  about,  specially  ef  you 's 
scart  and  solemn,  and  are  a-walkin'  among  its 
white  waves  in  the  foamy  spray  of  one  of  its 
tempests,  as  you  would  say." 

"I  like  that  sea  fancy,"  said  Virginia;  "the 
pale  billows  over  us,  the  outspread  sleet,  the 
bottom  of  crumpling  corals,  the  swimming 
snow-flakes  drifting  between,  like  polyps, 
wreathing  garlands  on  coral  tree  and  shrub 
and  mound  in  the  ether  deep;  and  like  divers 
seeking  pearls,  we  grope  in  the  white  depths 
from  object  to  object." 

"But,"  said  Mack,  "I  hope  we  shall  be  un 
like  some  divers,  who  with  handfuls  of  pearls 
get  tangled  in  the  coral  reefs,  and  with  glassy 
open  eyes  sleep  forever  in  the  bed  of  their 
gems,  shrouded  in  their  glitter.  The  tides 
chant  chorals  in  the  reefs,  the  busy  polyps 
sing  low,  soft  strains  in  the  windows  of  the 
palaces  of  coral,  and  the  pearls  of  great  price 
are  strewn  about  them;  but  the  pale  sleepers 
heed  not  the  weird  melodies,  the  charming 
dazzle,  nor  any  glory." 

"And,"  suggested  Both,   "there  are  many, 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        143 

though,  alive,  faces  still  as  stone,  brain  and 
heart  stunned  massing  and  summing  gold,  eyes 
glazy  rays  of  eagerness  for  more,  souls  narrowed 
to  the  circle  of  its  shine,  blind  to  the  true  light, 
who  neglect  to  buy  of  Jesus  '  gold  tried  in  the 
fire,'  till  death  buries  them  in  grasping  the 
illusive  riches  that  fail.  How  are  we  other 
than  fatal  blunderers  who,  for  the  treasures 
that  flood  us  here,  lose  the  heavenly  that  lie 
beyond  the  death-sea?" 

"We  were  grouped  together  the  while  in  an 
open  space,  Both  between  the  donkeys  leaning 
on  one,  his  right-hand  on  the  other's  sedate 
brow.  They  seemed  to  be  listening  to  us,  our 
only  auditors  except  the  driving  snow  whose 
flakes  appeared  to  ricochet  above  and  about 
us,  in  many  fantastic  curves  and  twinkles,  as  if 
to  put  us  in  merrier  mood.  Heinrich  seemed 
amazed  by  Roth's  thought  of  any  other  gold 
than  the  visible,  of  any  other  life  than  the 
earthly;  but  Pike  came  to  his  relief  by  saying: 
"Tom  'minds  me  of  two  parsons  I  used  to 
hear.  One  we  called  ( Blossom ; '  and  he  were 
a  thumperer.  I've  heerd  him  lots.  The 
beautifulest,  unarthliest  words  you  ever  seed 
popped  out'n  his  lips,  an'  busted  afore  the 
crowd  like  a  armful  o'  sky-rockets.  He  were 
edicated  for  a  lawyer,  an'  come  nigher  makin' 


144:        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

white  black  than  arry  judge  you  ever  heern. 
He  jumped  about,  run  fore  an'  aft  in  the  pul 
pit,  turned  up  his  eyes,  rolled  'em,  popped  'em, 
slung  his  voice  up  the  mountain-top,  an'  d'rectly 
you  'd  hear  it  rumblin'  in  the  chasm,  and  won 
der  how  it  got  thar,  an'  what  it  were  a  doin' 
down  thar  'mong  all  them  arm-throwin's  and 
unhuman  gesturs  an'  figgers.  He  kivered  his 
pint,  ef  he  had  any,  with  a  bushel  o'  feathers, 
red,  blue,  black,  white,  yaller,  spotted  and 
streaked,  so  he  never  teched  a  targit. 

"The  other  one  we  called  'Blunderbuss." 
He  were  a  sight.  Ef  you  heern  him  once, 
you  'd  feel  unarthly  mean  from  head  to  heel, 
that  ef  you  did  n't  change  about  you  were  goin' 
to  Sattan  an'  no  mistake;  and  I  always  noticed 
when  he  were  done  my  heart  were  a-throbbin' 
arter  a  better  life.  But  when  Blossom  were 
through  sermontizin',  I  felt  like  I  were  tolerble 
good,  a-needin'  nothin'  but  wings  to  make  me 
a  angel." 

"Dat  vier  goot,"  said  Heinrich,  "but  ve  is 
gone  wrong.  Drade-pose  no  clis  way.  Ve  vier- 
meucht  loss  in  de  stirm." 

"Can't  help  it,"  answered  Pike;  "Virginny's 
got  a  little  gold  creetur  that  dances  to  the 
north  star  day  and  night,  a  lass  give  him.  We 
are  a-follerin'  it  for  her  sak^;  an'  T  never 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         145 


knowed  a  addle-head  man  to  go  far  wrong  'cept 
he  went  contrary  to  women-kind.  Foller  a 
woman-kind,  'cept  she's  possesst  o'  Sattan, 
which  ain't  likely,  an'  you 's  sure  to  find  your 
self  all  right  afore  long." 

"Adam  no  dinkt  dat,  when  he  tare  through 
der  torns  for  doing  like  von  vomins  say." 

"Adam,"  retorted  Pike,  "were  wrong.  He 
ought  to  have  staid  more  in  her  company,  in- 
stid  o'  wanderin'  round,  like  a  Californy  hus 
band,  leavin'  her  to  the  marcy  o'  Sattan.  Ef 
he'd  staid  at  home,  she'd  a  been  all  right 
mebbe,  an'  we  mought  a  been  in  the  garden  of 
Eden  to-day  instid  of  in  this  whizzy  snow  an' 
icy  'glommerations,  as  Tom  calls  the  frizzen 
things." 

Tom  winced  a  little,  for  he  had  been  a  long 
time  from  his  wife,  and  disliked  the  fragment 
ary  style  in  which  Pike  quoted  him.  So  he 
said:  "I  said  'icy  conglommerations;'  and 
Leina  is  as  safe  and  happy  where  she  is  as  if 
I  were  there  too." 

"Yes,"  he  rejoined;  "an'  more  so.  Ef  she 
wern't  better  nor  a  goddess,  you  'd  'ave  gone 
below  to  warm  'tarnally  afore  now.  She  are 
the  'sprisenest  creetur  I  ever  see,  only  I  never 
seen  her  yet,  to  find  any  good  or  pritty  about 
you  to  'maze  her  so.  I  know'd  it  were  spme 
10 


140        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

inhuman  word  stretcliin'  to  sundown,  without 
you  wastin'  the  day  in  callin'  it  over.  Ef  Blos 
som  ever  gits  that  word,  he  '11  'glommerate  the 
folks  with  it  till  they 's  deef  enough  not  to  hear 
a  arthquake.  Why  didn't  you  say  'frizzen 
things,'  then  everybody  would  onderstand 
you?" 

Tom  moved  on  through  the  blasts  without 
further  parley;  and  about  twilight  next  day 
we  stretched  a  Norwegian  tent,  we  had  pro 
cured  from  a  flitting  company,  amidst  beautiful 
live-oaks  on  a  point  that  a  few  feet  from  us 
dipped  its  granite  face  in  the  Stanislaus  River, 
a  few  miles  above  Knight's  Ferry. 

The  long,  tortuous  descent  from  the  peaks 
and  abysses  of  massy  congelations  had  con 
ducted  us  into  a  mild  climate.  The  clouds 
broke  in  rain,  or  most  of  the  feathery  snow- 
flakes,  softening  in  the  warmth  of  their  fan 
tastic  mid-air  waltz,  rapidly  dreamed  them 
selves  away  as  they  swooned  upon  the  sward. 
And  contenting  ourselves  with  mines  border 
ing  the  valleys,  though  yielding  but  a  few 
dollars  a  day,  we  gathered  a  few  books  and 
many  newspapers  about  us,  and  forgot,  in  their 
light  and  peace,  the  dangers  we  had  escaped. 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        147 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  GLEAMING  BLADE  OF  HIS  NAKED  BOWIE. 


EINKICH,  after  a  few  weeks,  de 
parted  for  Stockton — or  to  get 
nearer  an  unfailing  supply  of 
lager,  rather;  and  the  restful 
scenes  of  the  foot-hills  becoming 
tame  to  us,  Tom  and  Mack,  and  myself,  went 
farther  into  the  mountains  prospecting. 

The  third  night  out  we  attended  a  mock 
temperance  meeting.  Perhaps  two  hundred 
men,  belted  with  weapons  and  adorned  with 
beards  ten  or  twelve  inches  long,  graced  the 
occasion.  The  platform  consisted  of  empty 
kegs,  heads  up.  There  were  no  seats;  all  stood. 
The  president  was  a  cool  old  sailor.  A  Dutch 
man,  a  Frenchman,  a  Michigander,  and  an 
Irishman,  had  spoken,  extolling  every  drink 
except  water  amidst  an  uproar  of  applause. 

When  the  fifth  speaker  ascended  the  kegs  he 
was  greeted  with  wildest  huzzas ;  bottles  peeped 
from  his  pockets,  and  his  voice,  as  he  acknowl 
edged  the  honor,  was  akin  to  the  tremolo  key 
of  an  organ  out  of  tune.  He  emptied  a  bottle 


148         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


at  a  draught,  while  the  crowd  gathered  closer 
about  him,  and  said:  "Gentlemen  and  ladies." 

"Hello,  Kaintuck!"  yelled  an  Irishman, 
"tharre's  not  one  o'  the  last  sax  herre." 

"Well,"  he  answered,  "there  ought  to  be 
in  this  dacent  company,  surely." 

"Say  ladies  and  gentlemen,  then,  Commo 
dore!"  exclaimed  many  voices. 

He  uncorked  his  second  bottle  and  took  a 
long  drink.  The  fluid  gurgled,  gurgled  down 
his  throat.  All  eagerly  watched  him  till,  as 
the  bottle  tilted  to  a  perpendicular  between 
his  teeth,  some  cried  out:  "He  's  good  as  dead, 
boys!  That's  too  much  for  two  sober  men." 

"Who  says  'good  as  dead?'"  he  asked, 
dropping  the  bottle  at  his  feet.  "Is  it  intem 
perance  that  destroys?  When  did  that  become 
an  article  of  faith  with  you?  It  is  temperance 
that  palsies  the  nerves,  loosens  the  joints,  un 
strings  the  muscles,  gives  the  body  a  zigzag 
motion,  numbs  the  brain,  deadens  the  kindlier 
feelings  of  the  heart,  and  wakes  up  fiends 
in  it. 

"It  is  temperance  that  quarrels  with  the 
best  friend,  spends  all  its  store  in  rioting,  feeds 
on  hunger,  clothes  in  rags,  beats  woman,  breaks 
her  loving  heart,  frightens  children  and  makes 
them  weep  when  God  intended  their  little  faces 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        M9 

should  be  brave  as  innocence,  and  smile  like 
cherubim. 

"  It  is  temperance  that  poisons  the  blood, 
bloats  the  form,  gives  wounds  and  bruises 
without  cause,  reddens  the  eye  and  blears  its 
vision;  fouls  the  air  with  profanity,  mocks 
sacred  things,  guillotines  honpr,  provokes  dis 
cord,  stirs  to  murder,  wrecks  energy,  stifles  in 
dependence,  and  disgraces  a  State  by  adding 
to  its  prison  registry  a  long  list  of  dishonored 
names. 

"It  is  temperance  that  taxes  the  sober  for 
the  drunken,  the  pure  and  peaceable  for  the 
fiendish,  and  turns  grain  needed  for  the  hun 
gry  into  liquor  that  laughs  at  calamity  and 
sows  sorrows.  It  transmutes  wisdom  into  in 
sanity,  and  stripping  the  soul  of  all  that's 
purest  and  best  in  the  casket  of  immortality, 
leaves  it  mean,  and  virtueless,  and  fitted  for 
perdition.  It  twines  gray  hair  with  woes,  fills 
sweet  old  mother's  heart  with  floods  of  desolate 
grief;  and  opens  an  early  grave,  a  grave  of 
shame,  a  pauper's  grave,  a  grave  of  crime,  a 
grave  over  which  no  sigh  that  the  buried  one 
is  gone  ever  sheds  its  pathetic  murmur." 

During  his  speech  the  crowd  had  become 
still  as  a  desert,  and  from  the  moment  that  he 
dropped  his  bottle  his  voice  was  musical  and 


150        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

clear.  Each  phrase  was  articulate  irony  whose 
presence,  like  electricity,  was  felt  by  his  audit 
ors.  But  if  they  strove  at  all  to  shake  off  its 
spell,  they  utterly  failed,  till  the  speaker  stood 
mute,  pale,  watching  a  boy  just  in  the  teens 
pressing  to  the  platform.  There  was  a  deathly 
pallor  on  the  lad's  face  as  he  stepped  to  his 
side,  and  the  voice  was  inimitably  tender  as 
he  said:  "Father,  please  go  to  the  tent." 

"Certainly,  my  boy;  yes,  at  once." 

The  boy  whirled  upon  his  heel,  facing  the 
wild  crowd,  and  said:  "You  are  fiends!" 

I  saw  Tom  move  close  to  him;  but  had  no 
time  to  think.  Several  were  already  yelling, 
"  Knock  that  boy  on  the  head !  down  with  him ! " 

He  did  not  quail,  but  said:  "I  say  it  again. 
You  are  fiends!  You  are  making  mockery  of 
my  good  father.  You  have  led  him  to  drink 
again,  and  brought  him  to  this  accursed  com 
pany  to  make  sport,  by  his  eloquence,  for  your 
sottish  souls." 

Angry  voices  railed  at  him  again,  and  I  saw 
the  old  man  fingering  his  bowie.  A  half  dozen 
irritated  men  were  approaching  him,  when  a 
clear  voice  rang  across  the  cursing  throng: 
"  The  boy  shall  speak !  Touch  him  who  dares ! " 

I  knew  the  voice  at  its  first  note  for  Tom's, 
but  its  silvery  defiance  had  scarcely  split  the 


CALIFORNIA    G  OLD- FIELD  SCENES.        151 

air  before  blows,  like  the  thuds  of  the  catapult, 
were  falling,  that  made  the  heart  sicken  and 
rage.  Presently  the  thoughtful  men  present 
had  secured  a  truce,  but  not  before  Both  and 
Mack  who  had  sprung  to  his  side  had  felled 
several  of  the  chief  assailants. 

The  president,  when  the  truce  obtained,  was 
sitting  precisely  as  he  was  when  the  first  blow 
was  struck;  but  the  old  man,  whose  speech  had 
been  interrupted,  was  standing  upon  the  first 
row  of  kegs  with  his  left  arm  tightened  round 
the  boy,  a  little  in  advance;  and  the  gleaming 
blade  of  his  naked  bowie  glittered  in  his  steady 
right-hand.  No  eye  that  beheld  him  then  but 
knew  that  to  touch  that  boy  was  death;  and 
the  reckless  revelers,  as  the  posture  caught 
their  glance,  involuntarily  cheered,  till  the  old 
Kentuckian,  becoming  conscious  of  the  heroic 
tableau  he  was  presenting,  placed  the  boy  on  a 
cask  and  sat  down  by  him. 

The  first  word,  after  the  fight  was  checked, 
was  from  Tom,  of  course.  I  expected  him  to  be 
shot  every  moment.  He  had  planted  himself 
in  tho  very  tracks  he  stood  in  when  the  first 
blow  was  struck,  and,  exactly  in  the  same  key 
as  before,  said:  "The  boy  shall  speak!" 

"No,"  said  the  old  man,  jumping  to  his 
feet,  "he  has  said  enough.  And,  friends,  I 


152        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

regret  to  have  occasioned  any  thing  unpleasant. 
Many  of  you  know  how  ruinous  to  me  intem 
perance  has  been.  I  am  sober,  have  not  tasted 
liquor  in  five  months;  hope  never  to  again. 
The  bottles  you  saw  me  use  held  only  lemon 
ade.  My  intention  was  to  have  made  you  a 
temperance  speech  in  my  way,  when  my  boy's 
face  amazed  me  coming  through  the  crowd; 
and  knowing  how  he  was  suffering  because, 
like  you,  he  thought  me  again  drinking,  I  lost 
my  self -poise.  Your  president  knew  my  plan, 
and  approved  it.  Let  me  be  done  with  it,  by 
expressing  the  wish  that  you  will  all  be  friends, 
and  join  with  me  in  exiling  your  palates  from 
whisky  forever." 

As  he  ceased,  the  old  sailor  rapped  with  his 
big  jack-knife  on  a  cask,  and  said:  "Bound  to 
thar;  round  to,  my  hearties!  Come  to  order. 
If  you'll  say  intemperance  whar  Commodore 
Kaintuck  said  temperance  you'll  have  his 
spache  as  he  mint  it.  You  're  bound  to  h  ave  your 
fun.  But  as  cap'n  of  this  ship,  I  say  throw 
o'erboard  such  lumber  as  making  sport  of  a 
good  thing,  and  quit  grog,  or  you  will  go  down, 
under  full  sail,  to  blue  blazes.  I  declar  this 
ineetin'  'jarned  Over  to,  to,  to  judgment-day." 

On  our  return  to  camp  Both  discovered  that 
he  had  swallowed  a  tooth,  and  maintained  that 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        153 

my  skull  had  knocked  it  out,  trying  to  get  from 
the  fighting  circle.  Professing  to  be  a  boxing 
expert,  he  disliked  to  own  to  a  square  blow 
from  an  antagonist;  but  the  only  blow  he  could 
give  wras  one  at  a  venture,  and  his  skill  in 
fencing  was  to  receive  a  blow  on  the  spot  it 
was  aimed  at. 

Finding  a  rich  gulch  among  the  taller  foot 
hills,  we  located  claims;  and  Both  and  the 
brown  donkey  went  to  pilot  the  gray  donkey 
and  Pike  and  Virginia  to  the  placer. 


154        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

O  IT  WAS  A  SWEET,   PURE  FACE! — EVERY  THING 
BUT  LIFE,  THE  DANCE  OF  LIFE. 


UB  new  camp  was  in  a  sequestered 
portion  of  the  jungle.  The  hills 
about  us,  however,  were  generally 
less  than  five  hundred  feet  above 
us,  and  were  inlaid  and  underlaid 
by  gray  rocks  whose  brows,  when  long  exposed, 
had  become  dark  and  rent  and  rugged.  The 
placer  broke  away  from  the  abrupt  base  of 
one  of  the  lower  hills,  and  was  divided  in  its 
length  by  a  branch  whose  supplies  of  water, 
when  the  winter  rains  had  ceased,  we  increased 
by  uncapping  several  springs  and  turning  their 
streams  to  that  of  the  placer.  The  fall  in  the 
water  channel  was  comparatively  great,  and, 
together  with  the  narrowness  of  the  hill- 
pent  mine,  made  our  labor  the  less  worrying; 
and  the  gravel  "panned  out"  richly,  and  the 
bed-rock  richer.  So  we  were  contented  to 
cheerfully  "pitch  in;"  and  as  the  fine  days  of 
approaching  spring  flooded  us  with  sunshine, 
to  break  the  weeping  spells  of  dying  winter, 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        155 

we  were  fairly  rid  of  the  gloom  the  hard  win 
ter  had  imparted  to  us. 

In  those  days  a  fine  suit  of  clothes  was 
scarcely  ever  seen  in  the  mines.  We  were 
surprised  by  the  appearance  of  one  such,  at 
our  tent  door  one  evening,  piloted  by  a  miner 
we  had  met  on  the  Stanislaus.  But  when  we 
beheld  the  joyful  greeting  with  which  Bothleit 
welcomed  its  wearer,  we  were  satisfied  to  have 
it  about.  He  was  an  old  law  friend  of  Both's, 
from  New  York,  called  to  California  in  the 
interest  of  some  large  old  Mexican  land 
grants;  and  wishing  to  see  the  mines,  before 
returning  east,  was  pushing  south  to  the  Fre 
mont  Claim,  which  was  then  exciting  some  stir. 
Chancing  to  hear  of  Both  through  the  miner, 
whom  he  had  met  in  the  stage,  he  had  turned 
aside  to  greet  him. 

He  spent  two  or  three  days  with  us ;  renewed 
his  boyhood  rifle-practice  by  some  successful 
shots  at  deer  that  were  now  gliding  back  to  the 
mountains  from  the  valleys;  and  blistered  his 
hands  mining  for  nuggets,  to  show  to  friends 
at  home  as  having  been  dug  by  himself  from 
the  gold-fields.  He  was  n  genial  visitor,  and 
imparted  to  us  a  wishfulness  for  the  soft  garbs, 
the  nice  conventionals,  the  civilized  surround 
ings  of  the  Atlantic  Coast;  but  this  died  out  in 


156        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

a  few  days,  and  we  and  the  gold-phantom  were 
cousinly  as  ever.  Tom  staged  it  with  him  to 
the  head  of  the  Mariposas,  and  kept  us  awake 
many  hours,  the  night  he  got  back  to  the  tent, 
by  his  restlessness  and  narratives,  bringing,  the 
light  of  the  snow-crags  about  us  again.  He  said : 
"  Snow-man  was  a  passenger  with  me  in  the 
journey  back  to  the  Stanislaus  crossing,  bound 
for  Jamaica,  his  home.  He  has  been  fairly 
successful,  and  will  sail  from  San  Francisco 
in  two  or  three  days.  The  story  he  told 
us  at  Tempest  Camp  was  not  all  the  truth; 
miner-like,  he  concealed  the  golden  reason  of 
his  being  lost.  He  and  the  Mexican  had  mined 
together.  Afterward,  in  a  fandango,  he  had 
struck  aside  a  pistol  from  his  heart,  not  an  in 
stant  too  soon;  for  the  bullet  plowed  under 
his  skin,  and  fired  his  clothes.  He  had  shown 
real  gratitude;  and,  after  a  separation  of 
months,  had  arranged,  by  letter,  to  meet  him 
at  a  trading-post  ten  miles  west  of  Tempest 
Camp,  to  direct  him  to  a  rich  gulch.  Snow-man 
had  purposely  turned  from  the  hunting  party, 
but  losing  his  way,  had  failed  to  meet  him  till 
they  unexpectedly  met  at  our  camp.  The 
Mexican  observed  when  I  withdrew  from  the 
tent  in  the  storm,  and  awoke  him;  and  when 
they  were  without  the  tent,  induced  him  to 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         157 

leave  at  once,  to  return  early  in  the  morning. 
The  plea  was  that  he  knew  the  jungle  so  well 
that  he  could  thread  it  safely,  and  that  his 
brother  awaited  him  in  camp  a  mile  or  two 
away,  to  start  with  him  back  to  Sonora,  Mexico, 
whence  they  had  come,  and  was  fearfully  un 
easy,  as  he  was  a  day  or  two  behind  time.  As 
they  groped  their  way,  he  detailed  to  him  how 
to  find  and  know  the  gulch,  which  was  fifty 
miles  off.  They  slept  at  a  brush  tent,  under  a 
cliff  with  another  Mexican ;  but  when  he  awoke 
next  morning  he  was  alone,  and  not  a  trace  of 
the  Mexicans  to  indicate  the  direction  they  had 
taken.  In  seeking  to  find  us,  he. luckily  wan 
dered  toward  the  valley,  and  so  escaped  the 
fearful  experiences  that  had  tortured  us.  He 
had  mined  the  gulch  that  paid  largely. 

"At  the  foot  of  a  beautiful  mountain  we  left 
the  stage,  with  other  passengers,  to  walk  on  by 
a  trail,  while  it  made  a  circuit  to  avoid  some 
rough  ravines.  The  day  was  charming;  the 
sleepy  sunshine  threw  a  soft  trance  upon  every 
thing.  The  mahogany-hued  manganites,  the 
low-branched  oaks,  the  winding  trail,  the  old 
gray  great  rocks,  the  pebbly  gulches,  the 
mountains  with  their  shadowy  labyrinths,  the 
songful  birds,  the  plumy  flowers  resting  their 
cheeks  upon  the  ether,  or  dallying  with  the 


158        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

grass,  were  suggestive  of  peace  and  life.  But 
a  few  steps  farther  brought  us  in  the  shadow  of 
an  oak  upon  whose  boughs  two  human  forms 
hung.  They  were  Mexicans,  and  we  stepped 
beneath  the  tree  to  examine  the  dead  sons  of 
an  evil  destiny. 

"As  they  turned  to  and  from  each  other  in 
the  noiseless  waltz  of  death,  in  mid-air,  one 
swung  lower  than  the  other.  He  was  poorly 
clad,  of  graceful  build,  and  appeared  to  be  a 
man  of  toil.  His  head,  as  he  swung  to  and  fro 
solemnly,  then  spun  round  and  round  slowly, 
as  the  zephyrs  played  with  his  hair,  inclined  a 
little  to  one  side  and  drooped.  A  soft  expres 
sion  ineffably  sad,  resigned,  forgiving,  mourn 
ing  in  itself  in  utter  helpless  friendlessness, 
was  upon  his  dusky  countenance,  and  on  his 
placid  brow  innocency  was  so  plainly  writ  in 
death's  strange  letters  that  we  marveled  why 
He,  without  whom  not  a  sparrow  dies,  had 
yielded  him  to  so  sorrowful  a  fate.  O  it  was  a 
sweet,  pure  face,  looking  as  though  innocence, 
in  unpitied  heart-break,  had  painted  herself 
there,  and  died! 

"  The  other  was  neatly  dressed.  A  miner's 
shirt  of  green  flannel,  jacket-like;  black  cassi- 
mere  trousers,  clasped  round  his  waist  by  a 
bright  leathern  girdle;  a  flaunty  necktie,  and 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        159 

fine,  close-fitting  boots,  all  new,  were  his  cos 
tume.  His  head  was  erect;  his  face  bloated  as 
from  recent  debauch,  was  contorted  with  stark 
horror,  while  in  every  lineament  were  coiled 
masses  of  snakish  hate  and  guilt.  His  brow  was 
corrugated,  and  a  hideous  scowl  upon  it  seemed 
to  be  communing  with  many  murders.  His  dead 
eyes  were  wide  open,  fixed  in  dread  gaze,  as  if 
on  appalling  specters  flitting  with  his  bodeful 
soul.  No  one  who  looked  upon  him  but  felt 
that  his,  though  a  stern,  was  a  just  doom. 

"It  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  seen  him  before, 
and  as  we  moved  on  to  meet  the  coach,  memory 
was  busied  with  many  faces,  when  Snow-man 
said:  'That's  the  Mexican  you  charged  with 
murder  the  night  of  the  storm  in  the  mount 
ains;  the  fiendish-looking  one  back  yonder, 
hanging  highest.  I  have  never  seen  nor  heard 
of  him  since  then  until  now.  What  a  horrible 
face!  and  yet  he  had  been  grateful  to  me.'" 

"And  assassinous  to  me,"  said  Virginia,  in 
terrupting  the  narrative. 

"We  learned  at  the  next  stage-stand,"  con 
tinued  Tom,  "that  they  had  been  lynched  the 
night  before,  as  one  was  a  notorious  robber  and 
murderer,  and  the  other  had  interfered  to  save 
him,  and  was  treated  as  his  accomplice.  Judge 
Lynch,  specially  when  in  a  hurry,  is  sure  to 


160        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

blunder  till  at  his  illegal  hands  sometimes  the 
comparativly  guiltless  suffer  the  doom  of  the 
guiltiest." 

"In  a  soul,"  said  Mack,  "close  together  imps 
and  angels  abide.  They  strive  with  each  other, 
and,  the  soul's  nature  being  like  the  imps,  these 
hold  it  until  one  mightier  than  imps  and  angels 
comes — the  Christ;  then  the  imps  must  go,  or 
the  soul.  If  it  persist  for  the  imps,  it  is  loosed 
by  the  Great  King  to  mate  with  them  only,  and 
together  they  hurry  to  the  fearful  doom  of  sin. 
If  the  Mexican  had  heeded  that  angel,  Grati 
tude,  till  its  pure  calls  had  gathered  to  him 
penitence,  faith,  hope,  love,  his  life  would  have 
been  a  thing  so  useful  and  noble  that  though 
his  death  had  been  by  violence,  by  the  sins  of 
others,  it  would  have  been  peaceful  to  him. 
But  instead,  his  life  was  corrupted  more  and 
more  as  he  harbored  added  imps,  and  none  can 
ever  know  here  the  evil  that  he  did.  His  poor 
friend's  death,  as  his  own,  evidently  was  caused 
by  his  life  of  crime.  "What  a  curse  is  a  wicked 
life!" 

"And  how  disastrous  often,"  said  Virginia, 
"one  evil  life  is  to  another!  and  quickly  comes 

the  disaster!  I  knew ,  in  the 

mines,  a  reticent,  courteous  young  man.  Those 
who  knew  him  in  his  tropic  home,  ere  he 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         161 


touched  this  shore  that  infatuates  so  many 
with  the  vices  of  gaming  and  drink,  tell  many 
pleasant  things  of  him.  In  a  dance-house, 
over  a  mountain  whose  blue  top  and  green 
sides  witch  the  eye,  he  chanced  to  overhear  a 
curse  a  Mexican  breathed  against  Americans. 
Pausing  in  the  dance,  he  resented  it  by  a  slap 
in  the  face;  but  meeting  no  resistance,  he 
turned  away,  and  again  was  whirling  in  the 
frantic  pleasure  of  the  waltz.  The  flush  upon 
his  cheek  was  rosy  with  life,  the  eye  glowy 
with  delight;  and  care  had  fled  to  to-morrow 
from  the  thrill  of  music  and  motion.  The 
magnetism  of  the  sensual  revel  suffused  him 
body  and  soul  with  its  sensuous  spell,  till 
every  thing  but  life,  the  dance  of  life,  was  a 
whisk  of  nothingness  to  him.  The  crack  of  a 
pistol  at  the  door,  a  thud  to  the  floor  of  his 
form  from  the  whisking  circle,  a  gush  of  blood 
from  the  white  bosom,  a  convulsive  shudder,  a 
gurgling  gasp,  and  life  was  gone — his  eyes 
stretched  after  his  ghost  gliding  away  from  the 
quivering  company.  A  minute  before  the  in 
sulted  Mexican  had  crouched,  from  the  scene 
of  light  and  life,  into  the  darkness,  and  sent 
death  to  take  his  place  within,  whilst  he  fled 
deeper  into  the  mountains.  Several  days 
passed;  but  the  friends  of  the  slain  man  were 
11 


162        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


busy.  One  evening  lie  watched  the  red  sun 
burying  himself  in  the  distant  sea  of  valleys, 
and  turning  down  the  shrubby  height  was  pen 
etrating  to  a  tall  pine  whose  brow  glowed  with 
the  purple  of  sundown  painting  cliffs  and 
rocks  and  thicket  and  firmament.  Every 
object  seemed  breathless  with  joy.  The  red 
manganites,  robed  in  silvery  foliage  rubied 
with  sky  glints,  were  motionless  with  excess  of 
peace;  the  birds  were  at  rest  upon  the  golden 
leaf-cups,  viewing  the  blush  of  bush  and  air 
ere  fluttering  to  sleep  for  the  night;  and  the 
wild  deer  paused  as  they  crept  from  their 
coverts,  marveling  at  the  red  flush  suffusing 
every  thing.  He  looked  sad,  as  though  death 
spoke  to  him  from  the  crimson  wave  of  clouds 
in  which  the  sun  had  buried  himself;  and  as 
he  edged  the  chasm  to  near  the  pine,  to  obtain 
tidings  and  provisions  from  his  friends,  he 
halted  and  peered  about,  glided  on,  paused, 
watching  in  the  soft  twilight  like  a  startled 
panther,  fearing,  about  to  go  back,  pondered, 
then  on  again  a  few  hesitating  steps,  and  list 
ened  alert,  as  if  foreboding  ill.  Blue  puffs 
whiffed  up  in  the  ether,  a  volley  of  fire-arms 
crashed  among  the  shrubs,  its  black  smoke  like 
veils  of  crape  floated  upon  the  ruby  thicket,  a 
husky  groan  from  a  dusky  form  writhing  in 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


163 


blood  upon  the  sward;  a  few  men  rose  up  from 
among  the  rocks,  painted  by  the  ghost  of  the 
buried  sun  as  they  grouped  where  the  smoking 
blood  lay  curdling,  and  the  dead  man's  stare 
and  ashy  face  told  them  how  true  their  aim 
had  been.  So  crimes  followed  crime.  And 
evermore  it  is  so  until  He  who  '  stopped  dying 
to  save  a  soul'  takes  sin  away." 


164         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

DEESS  AN  ISTHMUS  MONKEY. 

HE  moonless  night  sprinkled  with 
stars  was  dozing  upon  the  lone 
mountains,  and  we  caught  the 
silence  of  the  solitude  as  we 
thought  of  Tom's  narrative.  Nor 
did  our  improvised  stone  lounges  seem  hard  to 
us,  for  we  had  just  read  "  letters  from  home  " 
that  he  had  brought  from  the  post;  and  were 
languidly  puffing  some  rare  Hay  anas,  dream 
ing  dreams  and  seeing  visions  of  the  persons 
and  objects  in  our  dear  old  home  across  the 
continent. 

However,  Mack  presently  broke  up  our  rev 
erie  by  reading  to  us  the  following  letters  from 

Clay  S and  "Wyche  L ,  who  had  mined 

with  him  soon  after  he  came  to  California. 
They  had  gone  back  home,  but  reminded  Mack 
of  their  miner-life  by  an  occasional  letter. 
Clay's  was  as  follows: 

"—     — ,  KENTUCKY,  -    -  13,  — . 
"Dear  Mack:  I  have  been  married  ever  since 
I  got  back  from  the  gold-fields,  nine  months 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        165 

and  twenty-seven  days,  about.  You  have  seen 
Minnie's  picture,  so  I  need  not  describe  her  to 
you,  only  she  has  been  growing  in  beauty  and 
goodness  to  me,  from  our  marriage-eve.  This 
morning  she  is  very,  very  beautiful. 

"  The  baby  is  two  weeks  and  five  days  old, 
and  now  sleeps  upon  her  arm  under  a  rainbow 
of  smiles  reflected  from  her  face.  And,  Mack, 
there  is  no  mistake  about  it,  the  baby  is  incom 
parably  pretty  and  smart.  From  present  in 
dications,  we  think  he  is  destined  to  exceed 
*  Harry  of  the  West'  himself,  for  whom  I  am 
named,  in  stateliness  of  form,  wisdom,  sprightly 
wit,  and  eloquence.  Were  you  to  see  him  as  he 
lies  in  ribbons  and  ruffles,  looking  about  at 
things,  I  know  you  would  agree  to  what  I  say. 
He  had  a  glorious  red  color  the  first  few  days 
of  his  life.  We  were  very  much  delighted, 
Minnie  and  I.  For  we  expected  he  would 
grow  up  real  rosy,  graceful,  and  plump,  in 
stead  of  bony,  impish-looking,  like  other  boys. 
But  after  two  or  three  days  he  began  to  whiten 
in  spots,  which  made  us  very  uneasy;  for  we 
feared  very  much  he  was  taking  the  leprosy, 
which  you  know  whitens  one  wonderfully. 

"  Minnie  discovered  it  first,  and  was  near  go 
ing  distracted  abo  at  it  at  once.  For  her  mother's 
favorite  darky,  old  Aunt  Hetty,  as  kind  a  nurse 


166         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

as  ever  stole  sugar  for  the  children,  or  danced 
at  a  Christmas  frolic,  has  been  turning  white 
in  splotches  the  last  twenty  years ;  and  Minnie 
said  she  knew  the  baby  would  look  just  that 
way  when  he  was  a  man — a  streak  of  white  and 
a  streak  of  red,  like  old  Hetty,  a  streak  of 
white  and  a  streak  of  black. 

"  We  sent  for  the  doctor,  who  told  us  when 
he  came  that  it  was  nothing  much,  yet  not 
entirely  usual;  but  that  the  child  was  so  un 
common  anyhow  we  might  expect  unusual 
things  of  him;  to  watch  closely,  and  if  he 
whitened  regularly,  only  here  and  there  a  tinge 
of  pink,  it  was  all  right. 

"  He  left  a  small  vial  of  some  colorless  fluid, 
tasteless  unless  it  tasted  like  water,  with  direc 
tions  to  give  ten  drops  of  it  to  the  baby  every 
five  hours,  when  awake,  till  the  sixth  day,  and 
by  that  time  he  would  be  a  soft,  natural,  creamy 
white.  And  it  was  so.  And  I  advise  you,  if 
you  ever  have  a  child  that 's  very  red  for  a  few 
days  after  birth,  to  send  for  Dr.  -  — ,  or  one 
of  his  pupils,  at  once.  We  like  the  fair  skin 
of  the  baby  better,  I  believe,  than  we  did  its 
color — red — before  we  sent  for  the  doctor, 
thanks  to  him. 

"Minnie's  mother  says  that  the  whitening 
was  all  natural,  that  Minnie  herself  was  the 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        167 

reddest  thing  alive  when  only  one  or  two  days 
old.  But  she 's  a  great  talker  any  way. 

"His  head,  the  baby's,  is  round,  except  it 
may  bulge  somewhat  behind,  and  his  hair  is 
already  nearly  black.  We  are  glad  that's  so; 
for  we  talked  it  over,  and  agreed  that  we  never 
could  stand  it  if  he  were  to  have  a  white  head. 
The  hair  is  soft  as  floss  of  silk.  Short  neck, 
long  eyelashes,  blue,  flashy  eyes,  and  about 
them,  too,  is  a  most  deep,  profound  look  that 
denotes  genius.  The  doctor  seems  to  agree 
with  us  in  that;  especially  my  wife's  mother 
and  mine  do.  His  nose  is  a  fac-simile  Grecian 
nose;  I  wish  you  could  see  it.  His  cheeks  are 
plump,  a  little  red  yet;  and  his  ears  are  the 
most  symmetrical  I  ever  beheld.  His  mouth 
is  a  rare  grace;  it  puckers,  a  little  I  mean,  and 
large  with  thick  lips — I  do  not  mean  much  so, 
just  enough  so  to  resemble  the  grand  '  Harry.' 
His  chin  curves,  indicative  of  masculinity,  and 
is  dimpled.  His  armc  and  legs  are  exquisite 
models;  so  Minnie  and  I  think,  and  are  sus 
tained  in  the  opinion  by  Minnie's  old  college 
victims — so  she  tells  me;  they  have  been  very 
kind  in  calling  to  see  him. 

"  'We  thought  yesterday  he  had  a  tooth  com 
ing  through ;  but  the  doctor  said  he  thought  not, 
as  children  were  seldom  so  smart  as  to  cut 


168         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD   SCENES. 

teeth  under  three  months  old;  and  as  our  boy 
is  not  three  weeks  old,  it's  possible  that  we 
are  mistaken.  His  hands  and  feet  are  small, 
the  sign  of  blood.  Indeed,  Mack,  he's  the 
handsomest,  most  perfect  child,  I  ever  heard 
of.  Minnie  says  that  all  the  ladies  who  have 
called,  and  they  are  many,  say  that  he  is  the 
prettiest,  cunningest — they  mean  intelligent 
—and  finest  -  looking  child  they  ever  saw. 
We  are  greatly  troubled  about  naming  him. 
I  prefer  Washington  Greene  Gates,  after  the 
three  most  distinguished  generals  of  the  Rev 
olutionary  War.  Minnie  inclines  to  ^Esop 
Cicero;  but  she 's  afraid  the  impish  boys,  when 
he  goes  to  school,  will  call  him  Sis,  or  Sop; 
and  she  never  could  stand  that.  And  she  says 
that  Aunt  Clink  says  that  if  she  consents  to  the 
name  I  have  chosen,  the  boys  will  call  him 
nothing  but  Greene  Gates. 

"  Uncle  Tobe  says  that  we  are  the  two  biggest 
fools  in  America,  and  he  '11  bet  his  blue-grass 
farm  against  a  blue  paper  of  pins  that  the 
child  will  be  a  bigger  fool  than  both  of  us 
put  together.  But  he's  an  old  fossil,  so  you 
needn't  believe  what  he  says  about  the  baby. 

"I  have  had  to  stop  writing  to  consult  about 
the  boy's  name.  We  have  agreed  to  name  him 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        169 

Tobias  De  Wittle,  after  Uncle  Tobe,  who  is 
clever  as  they  make  'em  even  in  Kentucky. 
He  said  this  morning  that  we  were  exactly 
right — that  there  never  was  such  another  baby 
in  the  world  as  ours,  who  has  certainly  grown 
nearly  an  inch  since  yesterday." 

This  letter  is  scarcely  in  accord  v:ith  the  ex 
tract  below  from  a  letter  of  his  Cousin  AVyche. 
And  not  being  equal  to  view  the  difference  in 
"  n  dry  light,"  what  could  we  do  but  leave  it 
where  we  found  it?  Wyche  wrote: 

"I  shall  be  in  California  again  in  two 
months.  Called  the  other  day  to  see  Clay. 
His  wife  is  rarely  beautiful.  How  she  ever 
fancied  Clay  is  an  enigma;  perhaps  amiability, 
courtesy,  and  business  habits  make  a  man, 
however  ruggedly  featured,  handsome  in  wom 
an's  estimate.  They  have  a  boy  baby  now  of 
whom  they  are  very  proud.  Clay  gave  me  a 
voluble  account  of  his  perfections,  before 
taking  me  to  the  crib  to  see  him.  Of  course  I 
could  say  nothing  to  discount  a  grace,  however 
imaginary,  from  the  little  fellow.  It  takes 
something  to  set  me  back,  you  know;  but  I  met 
something  in  that  child.  Mack,  he 's  the  ugli 
est  thing  in  mortal  shape.  I  was  amazed  at 
the  sight.  His  head  is  long  and  one-sided; 
hair,  tow-colored;  ears,  purple  and  large  like  a 


170        CALIFORNIA    GOLIt-FIELD  SCENES. 


valley  rabbit's;  frog-eyed;  his  nose,  like  a  flat 
piece  of  fresh  beef  dumped  carelessly  just 
over  his  mouth  in  which  he  was  cramming  both 
hands;  and  he  screwed  his  face  till  I  drew 
back,  fearing  he  was  about  to  turn  outside  in. 
If  you  would  dress  an  Isthmus  monkey  in  a 
slim  ruffle-shirt,  wrap  it  up  in  white  flannel 
rimmed  with  pink  ribbon,  and  wash  its  face  in 
chalk  and  red  paint  mixed,  and  mash  its  foot 
till  its  face  was  set  to  a  hundred  screeches,  you 
would  have  as  fair  a  picture  of  Clay's  baby  as 
can  be  given.  But  I  believe  babies  are  all 
alike,  only  this  one  is  more  like  the  ugly  of  all 
the  rest." 

By  the  time  the  reading  was  finished  Pike 
had  a  midnight  stew  of  canned  oysters  ready, 
and  said:  "Virginny,  pass  them  ar  iceters  to 
Clay's  baby." 

Virginia  thought  a  moment,  then  plumped 
the  stew-pan  down  by  Tom,  who  quietly  emptied 
about  half  the  oysters  into  his  prospecting  pan, 
and  ate  them,  filing  no  disclaimer  to  his  baby 
hood. 

"  Waal,"  drawled  Pike,  "  your  handsome  par 
will  be  arter  you  d'rectly  with  a  tumbler  full 
o'  paregoric.  You  are  bound  to  be  collict." 

But  he  was  n't. 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        171 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

OUT  OF  WHICH  CAME  TO  US  SORROWFUL 
WHISPERS, 


HE  banks  of  the  mine  grew  taller 
and  more  rugged  with  jutting 
rocks,  as  we  pushed  the  pit  nearer 
the  base  of  the  hill.  And  as  the 
warmth  of  April  played  with  the 
snow  that  yet  capped  the  highest  hills  about 
us,  the  days  were  balmy,  though  fresh  and 
cool;  while  the  nights  were  so  cold  that  we 
kept  .good  fires,  in  whose  winking  light  we  told 
stories  of  the  past,  or  interchanged  thoughts. 
As  he  leaned  against  the  tent-pole,  propped 
upon  his  elbow,  musing,  Pike  said:  "When  I 
were  wounded  in  Mexico,  and  left  by  the  doc 
tors  to  die  afore  mornin',  a  little  pale-face  man, 
that  looked  like  a  corpse,  crawled  off  his  pallet 
to  me,  and  nursed  me  all  night.  Once,  when 
the  spasms  wrung  me  so  I  thought  I  was  a- 
goin',  he  wiped  the  death-sweat  from  my  face 
with  the  nicest  part  o'  his  shirt-sleeve,  and  put 
his  hand  upon  my  heart.  A  minute  arterwards 
I  missed  him,  and  looked  about  for  him  best  I 


172        CALIFORNTA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

could,  for  I  shuddered  to  die  by  myselL  1  saw 
him  crawlin'  away  fast  as  he  could  out  o'  the 
dingy  room,  but  d'rectly  he  were  back  ag'in 
with  a  red-face  surgeon  I  never  see  afore.  He 
said  to  me:  *  Comrade,  never  give  up  till  it's  all 
over.  This  doctor  will  watch  with  me,  and  if 
there 's  a  chance  you  '11  be  all  right  yet.'  He 
drug  his  pallet  close  to  mine,  and  they  .got  me 
and  mine  onto  it  gently  as  they  could,  so  I 
could  die  saf ter.  But  they  kept  tryin'  to  better 
me,  ontil  in  a  day  or  two  I  were  improvin',  and 
in  a  month  were  ready  for  to  march.  I  used 
to  go  to  my  old  pallet-place,  and  hobble  along 
the  track  o'  blood  that  flowed  from  his  own 
wound,  as  he  crawled  arter  the  doctor  to  come 
help  him  revive  me,  and  wonder  whar  he  were. 
The  watchers  had  told  me  that  he  were  removed 
one  night  while  I  were  out  o'  my  head,  and  he 
were  delirious,  too,  and  they  had  to  force  him 
away;  and  that's  all  I  could  larn  about  him. 
Arter  that,  in  the  battle  o'  Molino  del  Eey,  I 
saw  a  soldier  cheering  a  company  that  were 
waverin'.  He  said,  'Never  give  up  till  it's 
all  over;'  and  a  shot  cut  him  down  afore  you 
could  say  huzza.  But  I  knowed  him  by  them 
words.  When  the  order  come  to  move  position, 
I  sprung  over  the  ditch  frontards  into  the  corn 
whar  he  were  a-lyin'  dead-like,  and  bore  him 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        173 


along  with  us.  The  captain  told  me  to  carry 
him  out  o'  danger,  and  come  back  at  double- 
quick.  He  groaned  a  time  or  two,  as  I  were 
a-toatin'  of  him,  so  I  knowecl  he  wern't  quite 
dead;  and  when  I  laid  him  down  among  t'others 
where  the  doctors  was  a-cuttin'  of  'em  wus, 
gougin'  for  the  bullets  in  'em,  I  gave  him  some 
water  and  bathed  him  off.  When  he  come  to, 
I  said:  'An'  yer  don't  know  me?'  'No,'  he 
said,  'but  I  will;  my  head  ain't  just  right  yet.' 
'Yes,'  said  I,  'but  yer  heart  will  do  to  bet  on 
any  time.  Do  n't  you  mind  in  Jalapa  a-crawlin' 
arter  a  doctor  one  night,  fur  a  f  iirsaken  fellow 
gin  up  to  die,  and  bleedin',  as  you  crawled, 
puddles  of  blood  from  your  own  wounds?' 
'Ah!'  he  answered,  'it's  Jim;  glad  you  got 
well.  I'm  sick,  sick;'  and  he  fainted  away 
suddint  ag'in. 

"It  were  worth  while  to  be  thar,  to  see  the 
glitter  o'  joy  on  his  filmy  eye  when  he  called 
me  Jim;  but  he  were  mistaken.  I  told  him, 
arter  he  got  'most  well,  my  name  wern't  Jim, 
but  Racket;  for  I  knowed  some  secret  were  on 
his  heart  that  warmed  it  wrongly  to  me. 
'Well,'  lie  said,  'you  are  just  like  Jim  Knight 
who  dragged  me  from  under  the  Mexican  spears 
after  we  were  both  wounded,  when  Col.  Clay 
was  killed,  and  brought  me  safe  off  the  field.' 


174        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

. — . , ,^- 

But  lie  never  told  me  he  got  wounded  under  them 
lances  a-savin'  Jim's  life,  but  1  knowed  it,  for 
Jim  were  my  twin  brother,  and  when  he  told 
me  about  it,  he  said:  'And  Eacket,  ef  ye  ever 

can  get  a  chance  to  do  Sam  M a  good  turn, 

lad,  put  him  through  heart-like;  bless  him, 
Eacket,  kinder  like  mother  would  bless  him/ 
And  Jim  were  in  arnest  about  then,  for  his 
tender,  true  hand  were  on  my  shoulder,  and  a 
tear  were  in  his  eye  when  he  said  it.  Anyhow 
I  double-quicked  round  Sam  instid  o'  back,  for 
the  battle  were  won  afore  we  got  out  o'  range; 
and  he  were  fightin'  a  battle  now  all  alone  with 
death,  and  I  tried  to  make  one  with  Sam  ag'in 
death;  and  he  pulled  through;  and  I  toated 
him  out  o'  the  hospital  one  day  and  laid  him 
down  on  some  fresh  fodder  under  a  tree.  He 
were  crazy  enough  for  awhile,  but  he  slept 
mighty  deeply  presently,  and  woke  up  while  I 
were  a-lookin  right  into  his  face;  and  he 
smiled,  and  said,  'Jim.'  'No,'  said  I;  'Eacket 
for  Jim.'  'Well,'  said  he,  'it's  both.'  'Yes,1 
said  I, '  for  me  and  Jim  is  one  for  such  a  fellow 

as  Sam  M ,  forever.     Now  sleep  ag'in,  and 

git  well  to  rescue  some  more  o'  your  comrades. 
"  Never  give  up  till  it 's  all  over."  I  'm  a-goin' 
to  be  right  by  you,  Sam ;  sleep — sleep.'  And 
lie  did,  and  got  well  at  last.  Marssy,  boys,  to 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        lV5 

be  clever  were  or'nary  with  that  pale  scrap  of 
a  man.  He  'd  give  his  blood  for  a  comrade 
any  day." 

Here  Pike's  eye  wandered  over  a  broadcloth 
suit  athwart  the  projecting  end  of  the  rib-pole 
of  the  tent  above  him,  whither  Tom  had  tossed 
it  the  week  before,  when  he  got  back  from  his 
Mariposa  trip.  The  fragrant  smoke  of  our  Ha- 
vanas,  gray  streaked  with  thin  blue,  hugged 
it  coquettishly  ere  twirling  higher  in  the  air 
that  seemed  to  stretch  its  laughing  eyes  upon 
it,  too;  and  he  said:  "Tom,  you  brought  a 
armful  o'  newspapers,  an'  five  boxes  o'  cigars, 
and  that  cloth  suit  up  thar  you  is  so  keerful 
of,  when  you  come  back  from  Mariposa.  You 
are  bound  to  be  rich  a-goin'  on  in  that  style. 
The  Gov'ment  ought  to  'pint  you  univarsal 
spendthrift,  to  show  now  big  a  blossom  in  that 
line  Ameriky  kin  grow." 

Tom  ground  the  end  of  his  cigar  between  his 
teeth,  and  hurried  up  two  or  three  puffs  of 
smoke,  but  said  nothing.  He  had  often  in 
sisted,  in  his  series  of  camp-fire  lectures,  that 
neither  of  us  knew  aught  of  economy  but  him 
self;  and  that  fine  suit,  that  we  had  already 
made  a  towel  of  on  occasions,  gave  Pike  a 
chance  to  retaliate,  too  good  to  let  slip;  and  he 
continued:  "You  need  them  ar  sort  o'  clothes, 


176        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCPJNES. 

puddling  in  the  mud  and  water  waist  deep 
every  day  mining,  an'  you  hangs  'em  thar  to 
show  '  the  fitness  in  things,'  as  you  say." 

Tom  flipped  the  spire  of  ashes  off  his  cigar, 
and  replied:  "I  felt  shabby  in  miner's  garb 
with  my  New  York  friend,  and  a  clever  gentle 
man  told  me  he  was  selling  off  at  cost,  in  Mar- 
iposa,  and  let  me  have  the  suit  for  eighty  dol 
lars — it  was  priced  at  a  hundred." 

"Yes,"  said  Pike,  "that  clever  gentleman 
were  marciful  to  you;  he  made  you  pay  only 
thirty  dollars  more  'n  anybody  else." 

"  Nearer  forty,"  he  answered,  owning  he  had 
been  overreached  ere  he  thought,  "as  I  dis 
covered  on  pricing  suits  for  Snow-man  at  an 
other  store.  But  I  '11  trade  with  him  no  more." 

"No,"  said  Pike,  "but  you  will  with  some 
other  clever  gentleman  till  you  are  no  more,  or 
your  gold 's  all  gone,  for  all  your  lecturs  to  the 
balance  on  us  about  prudence,  and  'conomy, 
as  you  call  being  stingy." 

Pike's  case  against  him  was  too  clear  for 
Tom  to  rally,  and  he  good-humoredly  beat  a 
retreat  into  the  realms  of  reverie;  and  the  camp 
was  still  as  the  snow  yet  crowning  a  mountain, 
that  overtopped  the  taller  hills  or  spurs  just 
about  us,  and  appeared  in  the  sky-shine  like  a 
white  cloud  sleeping  upon  a  long,  high  bed  of 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        177 

ebony.  Pike  said:  "Boys,  that  mountain 
'minds  me  of  a  monster  giant  dead,  under  a 
shroud  too  narrow  to  kiver  him  round  good. 
I  've  been  reading  Tom's  Bible.  Somebody 's 
marked  a  varse  which  reads,  'Be  ye  therefore 
ready  also,  for  in  such  an  hour  as  ye  think  not 
the  Son  of  man  cometh.'  More  'n  twenty  folks 
I  've  known  in  this  country  was  called  aboard 
the  death-ship  suddint-like.  Ef  I  'm  overtook 
any  whars  near  you,  do  n't  let  me  be  buried  like 
a  hithen.  Send  for  a  parson,  and  have  a  hime 
an'  a  prayer  at  my  grave,  or  read  'em  your 
selves,  ef  he  can't  be  got.  It  will  be  more 
comfort  to  my  mother's  good  heart,  in  old 
Missouri,  when  she  hears  on  it  than  'most 
any  thing  else.  I  have  sent  h&r  nigh  onto  ten 
thousand  dollars  to  have  for  her  own;  and  she 
writ  me  six  months  ago  not  to  trouble  about 
sendin'  her  any  more,  for  she  had  more'n 
would  make  her  comfortable." 

The  solemnity  of  Pike's  manner,  perhaps 
more  than  his  words,  impressed  us;  and  some 
how  every  eye  was  on  his  face  when  his  voice 
hushed.  We  knew  it  was  a  kind,  brave  face 
that  twitched  with  sympathy  for  every  thing 
true  and  good,  and  that  weakness  and  suffering 
could  not  look  to  it  without  being  blessed,  and 
with  a  niceness  almost  as  rare  as  delightful. 
12 


178        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

It  was  earnest  and  quiet  and  sad,  as  his  voice 
had  been.  But  presently  we  all  slept,  and  the 
dreams  of  the  night,  and  the  brightness  of  the 
day  that  followed,  put  away  from  our  minds 
the  soft  words  he  had  spoken.  The  second 
day,  however,  Mack  and  Virginia  went  hunt 
ing,  and  I  lingered  about  the  tent.  On  looking 
toward  the  mine,  an  hour  before  noon,  I  saw 
Tom  staggering  toward  me  with  a  man  in  his 
arms.  When  I  met  him,  he  said:  " He 's  gone, 
Quien;  bank  caved  in  on  him!" 

As  I  helped  to  lay  Pike  upon  a  blanket  under 
shelter  of  an  oak  near  the  stream,  I  saw,  indeed, 
he  was  quite  dead.  His  back  was  broken,  his 
breast  crushed;  besides,  there  was  a  mortal 
contusion  of  the  skull.  I  asked  Tom  why  he 
didn't  come  for  me  to  help  bring  him  to  the 
tent? 

"  I  tried  to,"  he  replied,  "  but  I  could  n't.  I 
couldn't  leave  him  down  there  by  himself, 
though  I  knew  he  was  dead.  He  never  spoke, 
never  breathed  that  I  could  see,  after  the  great 
rock  rolled  over  him.  But,  Quien,  he  looked 
like  he  was  still  alive;  his  lips  appeared  part 
ing  to  utter  some  pleasantry,  and  the  old  smile 
preparing  to  send  its  ripples  over  his  face.  All 
the  morning  he  has  been  even  more  buoyant 
than  usual,  What  a  bubble  is  life !  We  scarce 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        179 

see  its  form  fully  on  the  river  of  time  ere, 
shattered  by  the  unexpected  blast,  it  disap 
pears.  It  is  like  the  music  of  a  rill,  barely 
heard  ere  it  is  hushed  in  the  folds  of  the  sigh 
ing  wind  forever." 

A  Tennessee  parson,  who  occasionally  had 
shared  our  camp  in  the  foot-hills,  read  the 
burial-service  descriptive  of  the  resurrection; 
and  piling  over  the  place  large  rocks,  that  the 
coyotes  and  wolves  should  haunt  it  to  no  pur 
pose,  we  left  our  genial,  fearless  comrade  alone 
in  the  shadow  of  the  great  hill,  in  a  cluster  of 
manzanita  whose  shiny  limbs  formed  about 
him  a  dense  hedge. 

But  at  the  tent  that  night  something  was 
missing.  The  humorous  gibe,  the  tender  story 
uniquely  told,  the  hopeful  words,  the  soft 
though  gleeful  laugh,  the  gray  eye  that  talked 
more  than  the  tongue,  the  inhering  courtesy 
that  as  naturally  considered  and  conferred  joy 
upon  others  as  the  diamond  shines,  the  broad- 
breasted,  tall  form  with  womanly  heart,  of  un 
pretentious  courage,  was  gone.  And  in  the 
tent,  and  around  the  fire  without,  and  in  the 
shadow  next  the  thicket,  there  seemed  vis 
ible  a  space  in  the  spaces,  where  Pike  was 
wont  to  be,  out  of  which  came  to  us  sorrowful 
whispers  constantly  bewailing  his  absence. 


180        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

And  we  talked  of  the  pale  one  in  the  thicket 
of  the  dead.  And  niayhap  you  will  not  be  re 
pelled  by  our  weakness  when  you  read  that 
hardened  as  we  were,  by  rough  scenes  in  the 
mines  that  I  hide  from  you,  as  we  thought  and 
talked  of  him,  one  and  another  would  turn  his 
face  to  the  dark,  and  try  to  repress  the  weep 
ing  that  would  sob  in  our  hearts  for  him. 

However,  after  awhile  Virginia  said:  "Once 
I  stood  next  the  guards  of  a  palace- steamer  far 
out  at  sea.  The  breath  upon  the  deep  was  soft, 
the  fathomless  waters  still  and  clear.  The  ship 
was  at  rest  like  a  white  fragment  of  sky  on 
the  quiet  wave ;  its  flag  of  stars  and  stripes 
drooped  at  half-mast  like  glory  lamenting  mis 
fortune.  Upon  a  plank  lay  a  young  physician 
who  the  day  before  was  rosy  with  life.  The 
cholera  had  stricken  him  down  in  the  presence 
of  his  wife  while,  with  a  thousand  others,  they 
were  voyaging  to  the  golden  shore.  A  sail  was 
wrapped  and  sewed  tightly  round  his  body, 
leaving  exposed  only  his  head  and  face;  a 
mass  of  stone-coal  was  bound  to  his  feet,  and 
his  hair  lay  smoothed  back  from  his  dead  face. 
About  him  many  passengers  were  grouped — 
on  the  wheel-house,  on  the  deck,  upon  chairs, 
or  benches,  or  rope-coils  they  stood,  awed; 
for  among  them  the  noiseless  plague  was  pass- 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.       181 

ing  to  and  fro,  and  already  scores  of  the  com 
pany  had  shivered  into  death  at  its  touch. 
The  plank  was  tilted  by  two  sailors,  and  the 
doctor  glided  feet-foremost  down  into  the  deep 
blue  sea  a  few  fathoms,  and  paused  a  moment, 
sunk  deeper,  paused,  then  deeper,  and  quivered 
and  stood  erect,  motionless;  buried  at  sea. 
The  steam  -  whistle  wailed,  the  bell  tolled, 
strong  men  sighed,  the  machinery  groaned, 
the  engine  awoke  the  wheels  to  rapid  evolu 
tions,  the  steamer  moved  on,  and  in  the  vibra 
tory  waters  the  doctor,  down  in  his  clear,  blue 
grave  standing,  bowed  again  and  again,  his 
back  to  us — a  '  good-by '  from  the  dead  to  the 
living.  And  then  he  was  alone  waiting  there- — 
waiting,  deaf  to  every  sound  save  that  trumpet 
signal  that  sea  and  earth  shall  hear,  and  lift  to 
their  bosom  all  their  dead  children,  to  be 
caught  up  to  meet  the  Lord  in  the  air.  To  be 
buried  in  the  sea  of  waters,  or  beneath  the 
motionless  rocks  in  the  sea  of  mountains,  what 
does  it  matter,  so  our  houses  of  silence  shall 
echo  in  the  morning  of  Christ  with  salvation's 
sound  ?  Shall  we  be '  ready '  when  he  cometh  ?  " 
Education  has  much  to  do  with  reputation, 
if  not  with  character  as  well.  It  is  a  refining 
basanite.  Pike  had  never  polished  under  its 
culturing  touches,  but  such  was  the  native 


182        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


princeliness  of  his  taste,  impulse,  and  manner, 
such  the  brimful  sprightliness  and  force  of  his 
mind,  and  so  high-graded  his  emotions,  that  he 
had  twined  himself  around  our  hearts  like  the 
vine  of  pure  gold  round  the  column  of  the  sa 
cred  temple  at  Jerusalem .  And  when  Virginia's 
story  closed,  Tom's  face  lit  up  with  something 
like  a  blush,  and  he  said:  "When  Leina  con 
sented  for  me  to  come  to  the  gold-fields,  she 
wept  so  much  that  in  trying  to  soothe  her  I 
promised  to  adore  God  about  twilight  every 
day.  She  as  much  expects  me  to  do  so  as  she 
expects  the  devil  not  to  be  a  saint;  and  I  have 
disappointed  her  in  so  many  things,  if  she 
could  believe  it,  that  I  am  trying  not  to  in  this. 
One  twilight  as  we  came  down  the  mountains, 
last  winter,  Pike  entered  the  icy  thicket  and 
quietly  knelt  near  me,  as  he  did  daily  there 
after  till  his  death.  AYe  never  exchanged  a 
remark  concerning  the  habit  all  the  months  we 
observed  it  together.  He  said  shortly  after  we 
opened  this  mine:  'My  heart  is  a  surprise  to 
me.  Its  hates  are  gone;  peace  and  love  make 
me  glad  all  the  time;  and  I  think  of  God, 
eternity,  and  death  with  hope,  without  dread. 
My  little  sister  Jnle,  who  went  to  heavsn  when 
we  were  children  together,  has  latterly  come 
tripping  about  me  in  my  sleep,  and  played  with 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        183 

my  hair  as  she  used  to  in  life;  and  last  night 
when  she  left  me  she  beckoned  me  to  follow, 
and  said,  Soon.  So  she  '11  come  for  me  before 
long;  and  it's  all  right  here,  Tom,  right  with 
the  heart.  It  loves  the  earth  and  its  folks, 
and  would  be  glad  to  throb  a  long  while  among 
'em;  but  it  loves  heaven  and  its  angels,  and 
believes  it 's  a-goin'  there  to  be  among  'em  for 
ever.'  " 

Mack  and  I  went  up  to  the  gray  rocks  lying 
upon  Pike's  grave.  The  night  was  bright  with 
the  April  skies.  The  air  was  fresh,  though 
nearly  motionless.  In  the  dell,  at  the  camp- 
fire,  Virginia  and  Tom  chatted,  and  now  and 
then  their  voices  broke  upon  the  cairn  where 
we  sat  like  the  monotones  of  invisibles.  Huge 
rocks  lay  in  enchanted  meditation  on  shrubless 
knolls,  and  the  raylets  twinkled  merrily  upon 
their  wrinkled  faces.  The  hazy  patches  of 
chaparral  on  the  mountain  over  the  hills 
peered  from  their  lonesome  beds  into  the  som 
ber  ravines  whose  brinks  they  bordered;  and 
thirty  feet  from  us  a  leafy  covert  quivered 
and  bent  about  quietly,  then  was  at  rest  again ; 
and  another  farther  on  did  likewise,  and  yet 
others;  it  was  only  the  muffled  zephyr  greeting 
them  on  its  journey  from  sea  to  mountain,  and 
passed  on,  climbing  down  gorges,  up  precipices, 


184        CALUVRNIA   GOLD-FIELD 


over  heights,  and  awny,  away.  A  hundred  feet 
above  us,  and  as  many  y arris  beyond,  a  stream 
let  tossed  about  on  sleepless  bed,  and  drummed 
hurried  strains  to  air  and  plant  and  mossy 
shore,  then  leaped  into  the  chasm,  and  floated 
up  clouds  of  spray  that  hung  above  its  splash, 
like  a  snowy  veil  woven  for  its  bridal  with  the 
valley.  Just  at  us  a  water-oak  stood  stretch 
ing  one  budding  branch,  like  a  hand  of  bless* 
ing,  over  Pike's  cairn,  and  its  twigs  glided  re 
peatedly  as  if  fanned  aside  by  a  gentle  sprite 
in  noiseless  ramble  o'er  the  scene.  The  crickets 
chirped  in  the  brush-wood,  and  near  the  roots 
of  the  tree  glow-worms  kindled  their  pale  fires. 
A.  fawn  bounded  across  a  clear  space  into  a 
shadowy  one,  and  hied  to  a  dense  thicket,  and 
a  moment  Inter  g,  coyote  leaped  after  it,  and  a 
startled  rabbit  sped  to  the  cairn  and  hid  at  our 
feet.  From  the  many-voiced  streamlet,  and 
thousands  of  twiggy  lutes  and  rocky  harps, 
^Eolian  hymns — low,  adoring,  reverential- 
mingled  with  the  seeming  hum  of  the  worship 
ing  stars,  till  the  jungle,  the  dead  under  the 
cairn,  and  the  living  above  it,  were  lost  from 
thought,  and  only  God  appeared. 

Mack  seemed  to  have  observed  the  scene 
closely,  for  he  said:  "This  is  a  phase  of  earth's 
night-life,  in  the  golden  solitude,  that  is  en- 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        185 


trancing.  Yet  just  now  an  innocent  fawn  was 
fleeing  from  covert  to  covert  for  life,  and  a 
harmless  rabbit  fled  from  its  burrow  to  escape 
death  there,  and  hid  here  in  Pike's  cairn,  where 
it  trembles  at  every  softest  sound  as  if  it  shall 
be  its  death-knell.  Is  death  everywhere,  pur 
suing  every  thing,  nor  resting  at  midday  nor 
midnight?  What  is  it,  that  all  animated  nat 
ure  pales  in  its  breath,  perishes  in  the  way  if 
but  touched  by  it?  As  it  relates  to  man,  is  it 
the  ceasing  to  be  of  his  being?  Then  that 
heart-flower,  immortality,  is  a  dream;  and 
those  brilliant  devils  Voltaire  and  Robespierre 
— calling  massacre  justice,  the  guillotine  gentle 
mercy,  and  the  submergence  of  religion  and 
liberty  in  the  red  floods  of  tyranny  patriotism, 
death  an  eternal  sleep — were  the  world's  bene 
factors;  and  the  lessons  of  the  good  Christ  were 
dreamy  lies.  To  believe  that  is  to  lodge  in  the 
soul  the  most  preposterous  absurdity.  And 
yet  the  fact  recurs,  death  is.  What  is  it?  It 
comes  slowly  sometimes,  like  the  invincible 
soldier  mining  the  citadel's  foundation;  swiftly 
sometimes,  like  the  cloud's  bolt;  and  the  ear 
becomes  deaf,  the  eye  blind,  the  lips  dumb,  the 
brain,  the  heart,  the  body  still,  and  we  bury 
or  burn  it,  or  leave  it  unurned  to  bleach  to 
dust  in  the  weather  of  ages.  But  ourself,  the 


186         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

soul,  eternity's  heir,  still  lives,  waiting  in  the 
mysterious  shade  beyond  death  to  hear  the 
voice  of  Christ  reuniting  it  and  its  body  to 
assign  it  its  eternal  destiny." 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        187 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

I'M  EVERMORE   KISSING  HER   IN   THE  AIR. 

I  HE  laughing  sun  had  pushed  the 
snow  off  the  mountain,  and  warm 
zephyrs  had  fanned  from  the 
scene  wintry  airs,  and  spread  it 
with  tissued  mantles  of  grasses, 
buds,  and  flowers,  when  our  mine  refused  to 
yield  any  more  golden  grains.  Its  crevices, 
that  hitherto  had  opened  lips  to  show  us  mouth- 
fuls  of  nuggets,  were  now  gemless,  and  we 
wandered  through  the  echoing  rifts  and  gorges 
prospecting  for  new  deposits. 

Tom  became  intolerable.  He  would  go  to 
the  shady  side  of  the  thickets,  and  stretch  him 
self  upon  the  soft  sward,  crushing  down  a 
broad  swath  of  wild  flowers,  and  with  a  stone 
for  a  pillow — rather  two  stones,  for  he  took 
two,  putting  the  smaller  ends  together,  forming 
a  hollow  in  the  middle  for  his  head — dream 
away  the  bright  days.  There  he  would  lie 
motionless,  fat,  strong,  personified  health; 
awake,  yet  asleep  to  every  thing-  about  him. 
Or  he  would  take  his  pick  and  pan  into  the 


188        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

shadows  of  the  bluffs  among  which  we  pros 
pected,  and  sit  upon  a  mossy  bowlder  with 
about  a  hundred  of  Leina's  old  letters  on  the 
moss  at  his  feet,  and  read  them.  He  did  not 
read  them  with  any  method,  not  consecutively 
as  to  dates,  too  much  trouble  to  sort  'em;  but 
as  his  hand  happened  to  clutch  one  from  the 
pile  he  read  it,  turned  back,  read  it  again,  and 
re-read  it,  sitting  still,  in  one  posture,  like  a 
ruddy,  long- whiskered,  pensive,  puffed  corpse. 
It  did  not  occur  to  me  at  first  what  ailed  him. 
I  knew  he  was  at  times  subject  to  fits  of— lazi 
ness.  So  for  a  week  or  two  I  said  nothing 
remindful  of  his  career.  But  it  grew  worse 
and  worse.  He  neither  dug  in  the  pits,  nor 
cooked,  nor  brought  wood  nor  water,  nor 
kindled  fires,  nor  set  nor  cleaned  the  table- 
log  rather— nor  washed  dishes;  but  he  ate. 
However,  about  the  tenth  day  of  this  role  his 
appetite  failed  some,  except  when  Mack  killed 
a  deer;  and  might  have  failed  much  more  with 
out  specially  diminishing  the  toils  of  his  gastric 
juices,  to  whose  thorough  exercise  he  ever 
deemed  it  venial  to  devote  much  time  and  care. 
He  grumbled  more  than  a  farmer.  And  a 
farmer — peace  and  plenty  to  him! — grumbles 
at  rain  and  dry,  sun,  moon,  stars,  day,  night, 
cloud,  clear,  hay,  barley,  wheat,  flocks,  herds, 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         189 


oats,  corn,  cotton,  earth,  weather,  and  nothing, 
year  in  and  year  out.  In  this  Tom  was  already, 
what  he  thought  himself  to  be  in  every  thing 
prospectively,  a  model  farmer — though  of  farm 
ing  he  knew  nothing;  he  grumbled  at  every 
thing.  The  trees,  though  full  of  leaves,  were 
leafless  and  cast  no  thick  shades;  the  water, 
though  the  best,  was  brackish.  The  cheery 
skies  were  dismal,  the  hills  of  beauty  were 
hideous.  The  graceful  birds  and  their  songs 
were  unmusical,  pestiferous  little  imps.  The 
flowers  were  ugly,  their  odors  poisonous,  though 
of  odor  they  were  devoid.  And  every  one  ancl 
every  thing  were  obnoxious,  outrageous. 

So  I  went  to  one  of  his  trysting-places 
one  day,  and  said:  "Tom,  you  are  going  to 
die." 

"I  know  it,"  he  replied;  "I  have  been  feel 
ing  it  coming  on  me  a  long  time,  ever  since 
Pike  left  us.  I  am  going  to  get  out  of  this 
miserable,  sickly,  sterile,  heathen,  hateful 
country  soon,  if  I  have  strength  enough  left, 
and  die  among  civilized  beings  and  objects. 
If  I  ever  get  away  from  it,  I  '11  never  come  to 
it  again  till  eternity  wraps  it  in  flames.  And, 
Quien,  you  had  best  leave,  too.  I  've  been  tell 
ing  Virginia  and  Mack,  the  last  month,  that 
you  are  looking  pale,  thin,  like  a  bloodless 


190        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

skeleton,  like  a  castaway  mariner  bound  to  a 
rock  to  starve  by  a  thousand  miles  of  waves. 
You  have  fallen  off  nearly  as  much  as  I  have; 
and  I'm  so  weak  I  can  scarcely  walk,  much 
less  work.  It  hurts  me  to  talk;  something's 
the  matter  with  my  lungs;  my  breath  is  short." 
And  falling  over  upon  his  back  in  a  thicker 
part  of  the  shade,  he  groaned,  and  made  out 
by  dint  of  exertion  to  put  his  giant-like  wrist 
in  my  hand,  and  said:  "Examine,  please,  and 
tell  me  what  is  the  matter  with  me." 

I  felt  his  pulse,  laid  bare  his  broad,  fat  breast, 
thumped  it  heavily  with  the  sharp  points  of 
my  knuckles,  put  my  ear  on  his  solid  chest  to 
listen  to  the  regular  rhythm  of  his  perfect 
lungs,  felt  his  steely  muscles,  had  him  put  out 
his  tongue  as  far  as  he  could  get  it — scraped  it 
with  his  bowie-knife,  and  looked  down  his 
sound  throat,  tickling  its  palate  and  glands 
with  a  grassy  spray  till  he  had  several  parox 
ysms  of  coughing,  made  him  spread  his  feet 
wide  apart  as  possible,  and  looked  at  him. 

He  watched  me  mournfully  the  while;  and 
as  my  face  hardened  and  grew  sad,  his  became 
gloomier,  and  he  said  with  betwixt-a-sigh-and- 
sobtone,  "Well!" 

"Well,"  I  replied,  "the  case  is  unmistakable. 
How  long  have  you  been  so?  " 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        191 

"I  think  it  struck  me,"  he  said,  "about  last 
Christmas.  But  what  is  it?  Is  it  fatal?  " 

"The  malady,"  I  replied,  "is  like  Clay's 
"baby's  whitening— a  natural  one.  It  is  deeply 
seated,  fearful  in  your  case;  the  deadly  fit  is 
on  you  now." 

"In  the  name  of  Leina,  Quien,"  he  said, 
"and  all  that's  good,  tell  me  what  it  is,  and 
how  long  I  can  last." 

"It's  an  attack,"  I  replied,  "of  incompar 
able  laziness  and  befuddled  nostalgia." 

Springing  to  his  feet,  he  muttered  the  word 
"fool,"  and  walked  away  rapidly  toward  the 
mountain,  and  we  saw  him  scale  a  monster  rock, 
with  the  agility  and  strength  of  a  grizzly,  and 
disappear  in  the  shady  dell  beyond. 

That  night  he  said  to  me:  "You  are  right. 
I  am  homesick  unendurably.  Leina  is  ever 
before  me;  I'm  evermore  kissing  her  in  the 
air,  and  talking  to  her.  The  children  are 
constantly  climbing  into  my  lap,  upon  my 
shoulders,  or  yelling  delightedly  about  me. 
1  see  them  all,  awake  or  asleep.  I  know  they 
are  weary  of  boarding.  Leina  always  insisted 
that  a  family  is  never  so  happy  as  when  in  a 
home  of  its  own.  One's  own  house,  trees  and 
grass,  and  flower-plats,  one's  own  folks  and 
birds  within  and  without  doors,  one's  own 


192         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

home  is  a  heart-garden  though  a  wilderness  is 
its  bower,  a  waste  its  outlook,  and  poverty  its 
purveyor.  I  settled  it  on  the  mountain  to-day. 
I  am  going  to  Leina.  I  have  been  figuring  it 
up;  I  have  sent  to  her  the  last  few  years  not 
quite  twenty  thousand  dollars;"  like  all  his 
figuring,  wrong,  and  this  time  by  as  much  again 
in  his  favor;  "it's  little  enough  to  begin  farm 
ing  with  on  my  plan.  But  I'll  soon  quad 
ruple  it.  Mack  and  Virginia  and  you  must 
share  the  gold  now  in  hand,  if  you  '11  pay  my 
fare  home;  for  I  have  been  a  dead-head  a  long 
time." 

And  home  he  started  the  next  day  with  barely 
nuggets  enough  to  ticket  him  through.  But 
a  check  for  nearly  seven  thousand  dollars,  his 
share  of  the  gold  in  hand  when  he  left,  danced 
over  the  billows  for  him,  without  his  knowledge, 
in  the  same  steamer  that  bore  him  from  the 
golden  State. 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         193 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

DARK-EYED  SENORITAS  WAITING  THEIR  COMING. 
THE  DEAD  ONE  IN  THE  HEART  OF  THE  FLAMES. 


HE  rigor  and  toil,  mining  in  wet 
pits,  had  made  it  judicious  for 
Virginia  to  take  a  valley  vacation. 
He  left,  with  his  pack  upon  his 
back,  for  a  trading- post;  thence 
he  journeyed  mule-back.  He  returned  within 
the  month  healthy  as  ever,  with  stories  of  fresh 
cream  and  milk,  and  butter,  and  grapes,  and 
honey,  and  peaches,  and  women  and  children, 
so  delightful  to  us  in  the  telling  that  we  knew 
he  had  dipped  in  the  borders,  at  least,  of  con 
ventional  life  again,  and  regretted  that  we  had 
not  shared  the  trip.  But  we  .had  uncapped  a 
paying  placer  just  before  he  got  back,  which 
contented  us. 

We  had  learned  to  value  him  specially  for 
the  information,  trustfulness,  and  quiet  cour 
age  that  were  transparent  in  his  clear-cut 
character.  The  good  manners  that  obtain  in 
the  unpretentious  class  of  cultured  Virginians 
13 


194        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

graced  him  habitually.  I  have  often  thought 
that  the  reason  why  the  Mexican  had  not  killed 
him  before  he  neared  our  camp  the  night  of 
the  snow-storm,  was  because  he  feared  to  make 
alone,  even  an  assassinous  stroke  against  him, 
and  wished  to  get  him  to  his  brother's  camp 
where  help  would  be  at  hand.  But  fearing  he 
could  not  decoy  him  farther,  he  took  the 
chances  with  the  precipice  to  help  him  to 
murder  him,  at  a  blow  and  the  fall,  with  noth 
ing  to  betray  him.  But  the  belt  of  gold  pre 
vented,  and  the  surprised  scream  revealed  him. 
So  he  took  neither  life  nor  gold.  Virginia  had 
remarked  concerning  it:  "He  could  have  slain 
me  anywhere  along  the  route,  for  not  a  sus 
picion  of  evil  in  him  had  crossed  my  mind." 

The  valley  trip  had  its  strange  scenes,  too, 
for  Virginia.  But  we  must  let  you  hear  him 
tell  them  in  th«j  tent-door  with  us. 

"We  moved  along,"  he  said,  "man  and  mule 
muffing  the  breeze  spiced  with  the  fragrance 
of  clover  and  wild  grasses,  to  the  Merced  valley. 
The  trail  wound  south  of  the  beaten  track, 
across  bald  hills,  one  and  another  with  mural 
sides,  and  through  valleys  pent  into  little  plats, 
and  a  gray  streak  of  dust  marked  the  gravelly 
track  we  made  across  the  plains.  I  got  to  a 
bluff  of  the  willowy  river  about  noon  one  day, 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         195 

and  leaving  the  mule  to  feed  in  grass  breast- 
high  to  him,  I  noted,  while  lunching,  the 
valley  scene.  It  was  about  three  miles  from 
bluff  to  bluff  at  that  place,  and  widened  to  the 
view  down  the  narrow  river  that  looked  in  its 
rocky  channel  like  flowing  silver.  A  mile 
below  me  an  isle-like  hill,  shaded  with  broad 
oaks,  lifted  its  bust  above  the  willows  and 
vines;  and  lakes  of  clover  around  it  in  which 
cattle  appeared  to  be  swimming  and  browsing 
as  in  green  waves.  And  herds  and  flocks  fed 
also  upon  and  around  it,  looking  like  elephants 
in  the  mirage  that  magnified  them,  as  they 
moved  from  plat  to  plat,  or  stood  upon  the 
isle -top  and  looked  down  upon  the  green 
stretches,  and  the  seemingly  swimming  pine. 
The  bees  drumming  about  me  from  flower  to 
flower,  and  the  quaint  speckled  magpies  in  the 
cosy  nooks  with  their  fussy  courtesies,  kept  me 
company  till  the  cool  of  the  evening,  when  I 
set  out  down  the  valley  to  find  a  ranch.  Eeg- 
iments  of  crows  were  in  flight  over  it,  and  here 
and  there  a  cawing  straggler  skirred  by  to 
overtake  the  main  body.  Now  and  then  a  deer 
bounded  away  from  the  lonely  pitapat  of  my 
mule  along  the  trail,  and  sped  toward  the 
plains.  Fawn-like  rabbits  loped  carelessly 
about  me,  and  the  whir  of  an  eagle  quickened 


196        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

my  pulse,  as  lie  bore  one  of  them  squeaking 
into  the  willows.  A  bear,  at  the  edge  of  a 
blackberry  thicket,  reared  on  his  haunches 
and  held  out  his  arms  to  greet  me.  And  twi 
light  came,  and  darkness  settled  upon  the 
valley,  and  yet  I  had  found  no  ranch.  The 
rank  weeds  interwove  across  the  untraveled 
trail,  as  throngs  of  fire-flies  lit  up  the  path  for 
me  with  their  dancing  candles.  A  wolf  howled 
near  me,  and  the  querulous  coyotes  screamed 
their  peculiar  chorus.  I  had  begun  to  feel 
nervous  enough,  when  a  fierce  growl  a  few 
yards  to  my  left,  scared  my  mule  from  under 
me,  or  me  off  my  mule.  At  any  rate  I  found 
myself,  quicker  than  I  can  tell  it,  on  my  back 
in  the  weeds,  and  then  on  a  limb  up  an  old 
oak,  whose  outstretched  boughs  tangled,  may 
be,  at  the  affrighted  leap  I  made  to  get,  into 
them.  I  listened,  from  the  limb,  to  my  mule 
plunging  frantically  through  a  lagoon,  as  he 
tore  away  across  the  gloomy  bottom.  But  a 
nearer  trouble  claimed  my  thought,  a  noise 
like  dogs  craunching  bones;  and  I  could  see 
dimly  the  willows  sway  to  and  fro  in  that  par 
ticular  spot.  Just  then  other  fierce  growls 
woke  up  my  hair,  and  soon  the  pack  of  wolves 
snapped  and  howled,  fighting  round  my  tree, 
as  though  the  bone  of  contention  trembled 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        197 

about  where  I  sat  on  the  limb.  In  a  few 
minutes,  however,  some  had  trotted  back  to 
the  thicket,  though  several  remained  at  the 
foot  of  the  tree  munching  the  hard-worn  frag 
ments. 

"The  timber  of  the  valley  has  one  defect; 
occasionally  a  ponderous  limb,  shooting  out  at 
right  angles  from  the  body  of  the  tree  thirty 
or  forty  feet,  by  weight  of  foliage  and  action 
of  heat  and  dry  winds,  would  snap  asunder 
suddenly  and  crash  to  the  ground.  This  had 
not  occurred  to  me  perched  in  my  leafy  retreat, 
but  soon  the  reminder  came.  For  as  I  was 
safely,  as  I  thought,  peering  down  to  fix  the 
number  and  position  of  the  wolves,  a  sudden 
pop-pop,  and  my  limb  crashed  to  the  ground. 
I  clutched  for  my  knife  as  I  fell,  and  yelled 
with  horror.  Though  tangled  in  the  branches 
of  the  fallen  limb,  and  struggling  to  swing  my 
self  into  another  bough,  I  was  aware  by  the 
"oughs"  of  the  wolves,  and  the  thuds  of  their 
wild  leaps  as  they  fled  from  the  place,  that 
they  thought  something  had  happened — what, 
they  shouldn't  stay  to  see.  But  neither  did 
I  stop  for  any  thing  till  I  was  secure  in  the 
topmost  fork  of  the  tree.  I  discovered,  up 
there,  that  in  my  fright  I  had  not  even  drawn 
my  knife  from  its  sheath.  So  if  the  wolves 


198        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

had  attacked  and  had  not  fled,  I  should  have 
been  as  easy  a  prey  as  the  deer  whose  frag 
ments  they  were  gnawing  when  I  dropped 
among  them.  They,  doubtless,  were  terrified 
by  my  yell,  for  there  is  truth  in  the  saying 
that  the  beasts  of  the  forests  are  frightened  at 
the  human  voice.  My  downfall  taught  me  how 
to  quicken  a  dull  mind;  for  the  velocity  with 
which  mine  traced  my  body  into  pieces,  and 
each  piece  turned  into  a  wolf,  was  quick  as  a 
wink,  had  seen  it  all  before  the  first  pop  of  the 
breaking  limb  had  more  than  touched  the  alert 
ear.  But  as  the  night  wore  on,  and  the  merry 
stars  slyly  winked  at  me,  my  mind  dipped  into 
the  sea  of  laughing  ether  till  the  tree-top  itself 
seemed  happy  with  merriment. 

"  Soon  the  moon  rose  and  poured  pale  glory 
upon  every  thing,  yet  her  light  revealed  to  my 
eager  eye  no  sign  of  human  habitation.  And 
now  the  ticking  of  my  watch  was  the  noisiest 
sound  I  heard  for  an  hour,  except  the  cry  of 
an  owl,  that  seemed  too  lonesome  to  hoot  more 
than  once;  for  a  few  moments  after  its  mourn 
ful  call  died  out  it  sailed  on  silent  wing  over 
my  retreat,  and  I  watched  it  out  of  sight  mov 
ing  up  the  winding  river.  The  flight  of  the 
old  necromancer  deepened  my  sense  of  dreari 
ness,  yet  reminded  me  of  the  convenience  of 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        199 

my  leafy  observatory  for  a  talk  with  the  stars. 
But  to  every  thing  I  said  to  them  they  replied 
by  only  widening  their  bright  eyes,  and  in 
jerky  fidgets;  and  I  lamented  that  I  had  no 
magic  to  entice  them  to  tell  me  of  the  worlds 
they  journeyed  around,  the  strange  spaces 
they  traversed,  their  sufferings  and  their  joys. 

"That  wonder,  midnight,  lay  dreaming; 
dreaming  in  the  firmament,  dreaming  on  groves 
and  river  and  plain.  The  shadows  under  the 
trees,  the  moonbeams  in  the  air,  were  asleep. 
Nature  had  folded  her  starry  mantle  around 
her,  and,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  God,  breathed 
softly  in  trustful  slumber.  And  incessant 
chant,  drawn  from  the  harp  of  solitude,  in 
noiseless  gush  poured  through  the  brain  its 
mysterious  delirium,  thrilling  the  being  with 
harmonies,  till  in  its  witchery  the  soul  is  con 
scious  that  not  a  sound  in  earth's  realm  rivals 
the  musical  reverie  then  dreamed  by  the  ear. 
What  is  it? 

"Is  it  the  rhythmic  voices  of  light  coming, 
ever  coming  adown  the  heavens,  to  mingle  with 
the  voices  of  the  blood  gurgling  out  of  the 
'golden  bowl,'  flowing  ever  in  softest  strains, 
to  cheer  the  body  as  it  wears  away? 

"From  the  sky  it  floats  down,  from  the  earth 
it  floats  up,  inaudible,  yet  well  heard,  the  voice- 


200        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

less  music  of  silence.  We  see  the  silent  flow 
of  the  wave  when  the  air  lies  asleep  upon  its 
crest,  but  we  fed  the  liquid  sound  thereof. 
The  melody  of  silence  is  articulate  like  it. 

"Is  it  the  music  of  the  spheres?  Can  we 
catch  it,  retain  it  long  enough  to  word  one 
sweet  strain  of  its  countless  euphonies?  Here 
they  are  above,  beneath,  around,  within  us, 
softly  opening  every  fountain  of  the  soul  till 
it  smiles,  or  weeps,  or  shouts  a  voiceless  shout 
of  joy,  and  feels  like  leaping  out  upon  the  sea 
of  space  to  rnelt  away  and  float  off  with  the 
silent  strains  that  come,  always  come  pouring 
through  us  into  the  heart  the  melodies  of  silence. 

"Is  it  the  song  of  the  sun-rays  dying  in  the 
lap  of  night?  Or  is  it  the  gushing  up  to  the 
ear  of  God  of  the  secret  prayers  of  the  good  of 
earth,  meeting  the  answers  coming  down  from 
the  throne  of  grace? 

"The  little  children  in  their  white  robes, 
ready  for  crib  and  trundle,  kneeling,  hands 
clasped,  hearts  reverencing,  lips  parted,  prat 
tling  tongues  naming  to  God  Jesus.  What 
a  little  mighty  company!  What  a  cloud  of 
prayers  of  innocence  toddling  up  through  the 
solitude  of  space!  How  low  and  musical  their 
voices!  What  sweetness  must  their  echoes 
trace  upon  each  airy  wavelet  that  lies  between 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        201 


their  little  naked  knees  and  the  throned  Christ 
sending  by  cherubim  the  smiles  of  God  down 
upon  them.  This  music  of  silence,  is  it  the 
echoes  of  child- voices ?  saying: 

Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep, 

I  pray  thee,  Lord,  my  soul  to  keep; 

If  I  should  die  before  I  wake 

I  pray  thee,  Lord,  my  soul  to  take,  • 

For  Jesus'  sake.     Amen. 

"I  know  not  what  it  is.  I  know  that  it  is; 
that  it  voices  somehow  to  the  soul  a  mysterious 
melody  that  sets  it  to  thinking  of  'the  things 
unseen.' " 

Mack  interrupted  him  here.  His  practical 
mind  seemed  to  take  alarm  at  "the  melodies 
of  silence,"  and  he  suggested:  "Is  not  silence 
comparative,  not  absolute.  Can  there  be  a 
moment  when  there  are  riot  sounds  in  nature? 
and  if  a  sound,  her  silence  is  not  complete; 
and  the  waves  of  sound  bearing  a  sound,  how 
ever  soft  and  low,  disturb  sources  of  sound 
that  add  another  voice,  and  these  others  as  they 
swim  in  the  spaces;  and  so  the  noiseless  soli 
tude  is  really  vocal  with  sounds  so  tender,  it 
may  be,  that  the  ear  cannot  articulate  them, 
separately,  from  the  music  of  the  blood  forever 
flowing  in.  its  mechanism. 

"  Thought  may  have  a  sound  that  reports  it 


202        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

to  thought;  mercy  may  have  a  song  as  she 
comes  with  blessing;  emotion  may  have  notes 
that  make  its  presence  felt,  but  so  soft  that  the 
ear  cannot  hold  them  longer  than  only  for  the 
soul  to  catch  them,  yet  not  to  note  their  artic 
ulation.  In  a  world  of  sound-forces,  many  of 
them  must  be  ringing  every  moment,  and  their 
journeying  cadences  refined,  etherealized,  min 
gling  with  the  blood's  song  in  the  ear,  are  the 
melodies  of  silence.  We  hear  them  in,  they 
sound  in,  silence  in  that  from  its  quiet  realm 
every  harsher  note  is  excluded.  Your  tree-top 
reverie  of  melody  must  have  been  delightful." 
"Yes,"  replied  Virginia,  "it  was;  and  the 
fact  deepened  my  regret  when  I  saw,  before  I 
heard  them,  two  horsemen,  one  close  after  the 
other,  coming  straight  across  the  bottom.  The 
pale  moonbeams  revealed  their  girdles  of 
weapons.  The  jingle  of  their  heavy  spurs, 
and  the  grating  of  the  horses'  hoofs  crossing  a 
rocky  lagoon,  frighted  from  the  willows  a  band 
of  antelope  that  fled  in  pell-mell  leaps  under 
my  tree,  passing  toward  the  southern  bluffs. 
They  came  on  leisurely  as  before,  however, 
those  dusky  midnight  riders,  as  though  not  a 
pulse  were  quickened  by  the  sky-lit  bounds  of 
the  brown  racers.  They  rode  with  bowed 
heads,  only  every  few  rods  they  turned  them 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        203 

quickly  right  and  left,  peering  athwart  the 
waste,  and  reined  up  in  a  group  of  trees  with 
in  a  hundred  feet  of  me. 

"  Striking  a  match  they  lit  cigarettes,  which, 
when  puffed  into  thin  smoke  that  drooped  in 
the  breathless  quiet,  they  replaced  with  others. 
And  without  having  exchanged  a  syllable,  they 
moved  into  the  thickets  of  willows;  and  in  a 
little  while  the  waters  splashed  over  there  as 
they  crossed  the  river  going  toward  Tulare. 
I  had  felt  for  my  purse  on  sight  of  them,  but 
it  was  already  gone.  Before  they  came  I  had 
sighed  for  the  presence  of  man,  and  scanned 
the  dreary  bottom  again  and  again,  hoping  to 
glimpse  a  human  being.  But  the  long  breath 
I  drew  when  they  were  out  of  sight,  out 
of  hearing,  left  me  contented  to  be  alone. 
Whither  were  they  going,  on  what  errand,  to 
what  fate,  those  speechless,  nighted,  heavily 
armed,  gloomy  Mexicans? 

"Perhaps  they  were  edging  ruin  that  soft 
night  of  witchery;  and  on  their  souls  the 
shadows  had  fallen,  like  ghosts  tokening  to 
them  the  hurrying  woe.  Perhaps  they  were 
'honest  miners'  tired  of  the  gold-hunt,  and 
were  speeding  to  the  banana-groves  of  their 
tropic  homes,  dreaming,  as  they  went,  of 
the  dark-eyed  senoritas  waiting,  watching, 


204        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

yearning  for  their  coming.  God  keep  them 
in  the  way  if  they  had  pure  love  in  their 
hearts!  For  the  angel  Love  works  no  ill  to 
his  neighbor.  A  lineal  descendant  of  the  skies, 
heaven  lives  where  he  dwells,  and  blesses  where 
he  lives.  When  upon  a  world  of  hate  Jesus 
looked,  he  wept,  and  laying  a  hand  of  blessing 
on  it,  said,  'Love."' 

"Mexicans,"  said  Mack,  "love  senoritas  with 
romantic  flames,  but  experience  little  of  its 
thrill  toward  Anglo-Americans.  They  are 
bitter,  and  I  do  not  say  unjustly  so,  that  we 
have  overlapped  their  golden  borders.  Yet 
Mexico,  a  mine  of  gems,  an  agricultural  allu 
vium,  a  pastoral,  foliaged  with  precious  stones, 
fruits,  and  flowers,  is  kindling  for  fusion  with 
us.  Its  legends  of  tribal  glory,  its  romances 
of  love  and  gold  and  power,  the  glitter  of  its 
semi-barbarous  religion,  like  the  aisles  of  a 
cathedral  in  ruins  thronged  with  precious 
memories,  are  dear  to  its  people.  Yet  they 
are  aspiring  to  the  surpassing  realities  that 
base  and  zone  and  canopy  our  Protestant 
realm  with  order,  liberty,  and  prosperity." 

"Their  destiny,"  said  Virginia,  "shall,  I 
hope,  be  as  glorious  as  their  land.  But  the 
tree-top  in  the  valley  was  more  peaceful  by  far 
to  me  when  the  Mexican  horsemen  were  gone. 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         205 

And,  as  if  rejoicing  with  me,  several  meteors 
traced  bright  paths  through  the  sea  of  air,  and 
I  joyfully  observed  their  spangled  trails  fade 
from  purple  into  hazy  blue,  and  perish  in  the 
horizon.  Sleep's  lethed  sensations  were  steep 
ing  me  with  forgetfulness  afterward,  when  a 
bright  light  eclipsed  the  stars,  accompanied  by 
a  muffled  roar,  and  the  burning  meteor,  several 
inches  in  diameter,  raced  athwart  the  heavens, 
and  far  out  over  the  western  plains  burst 
into  fragments,  and  in  hundreds  of  sparkles 
dropped  out  of  sight. 

"Over  me  the  planets  had  shone  all  night, 
and  poured  steady  glory  on  the  scene,  and  I 
honored  them  with  quiet  glances  only.  But 
this  glary,  fussy  thing  had  lifted  me  to  my  feet 
in  the  tree-top,  and  won  by  its  red  rush  my 
admiration  and  wonder.  It  was  the  creature 
of  a  moment,  of  eccentric  course,  without  brave 
steadiness  of  flames;  had  suddenly  burst  out 
its  soft  brains  against  the  pure  ether  it  essayed 
to  voyage,  while  the  planets,  from  their  lofty 
heights  were  still  shining,  forever  shining 
steady,  constant,  true.  And  I  said:  'I  am 
what  Tom  called  Quien  in  the  trysting-place 
diagnosis — a  fool ;  the  nearest  wonder  charms 
me  most.'  But  I  sat  down  again  in  my  aerie, 
though  delighted  still  with  my  meteor;  and 


206         CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

comfort,  that  sometimes  comes  from  very  un 
seemly  sources,  came  to  me  in  the  thought 
that  I  was  not  an  uncommon  fool  at  any  rate. 
For  the  meteor  is  only  the  demagogue  among 
the  stars,  hazing  their  splendors  by  its  sky 
larking  flight  and  hum.  And  is  it  not  common 
to  applaud  the  demagogue?  He  rolls  in  mete 
oric  glare  between  us  and  the  true,  great  men, 
and  we  laud  his  gyratory  career,  neglectful  of 
the  modest,  unselfish,  real,  great  workers  in 
Church  and  State,  who  flood  the  world  with 
good. 

"  The  meteor  had  repelled  the  tides  of  sleep, 
and  its  short  life  and  tragic  death  evoked 
memories  almost  smothered  by  the  cumulose 
experiences  of  the  gold-fields.  Of  these  mem 
ories,  '  school-days '  were  just  then  freshest; 
and  the  boys  of  long  ago  rose  up  like  visions 
of  hope,  and  grew  larger  as  they  came  toward 
the  tree,  and  at  its  roots  they  were  men;  and 
one  and  another  came  climbing  up  to  me  in  a 
jolly  way,  till  many  were  there  with  me,  grouped 
about  upon  the  limbs.  Soon  a  change  came 
over  them  from  merry  to  serious,  till  the  tree 
appeared  to  be  peopled  by  men  with  folded 
arms,  reflecting  upon  all  the  way  their  feet  had 
come  in  the  journey  of  life.  They  represented 
the  professions,  and  several  industrial  arts. 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES:        207 

Some  had  achieved  distinction,  mojt  were 
hopefully  biding  it.  There  were  others  whose 
happy  voices  rang  in  memory's  play-ground, 
who  grouped  not  with  us  now,  but  were  sleep 
ing  in  graves  among  pines  and  palms  and  oaks. 
Some  fell  in  the  red  fields  of  the  Mexican  war; 
several  perished  in  personal  feuds ;  over  others 
fevers  had  piled  the  earth;  delirium  tremens 
had  raged  away  the  lives  of  two  or  three ;  others 
were  dead  though  living,  for  licentiousness  had 
made  them  loafers.  Yet  even  these  lazily  saun 
tered  to  the  tree,  and  sung  out  in  the  old  time 
tones,  'Halloo,  boys!  come  down  out  o'  that!' 
"  You  have  met  an  hour  that  brought  about 
you  the  boys,  and  their  traite,  you  were  a  boy 
with,  now  grown  to  be  men;  and  of  them  there 
was  not  one  that  you  did  not  feel,  however  life 
had  muddied  him,  like  putting  your  arms 
around,  and  talking  over  with  him  the  scrapes 
and  joys  you  and  he  had  shared  together, 
Such  an  hour  was  this  to  me;  and  though  I 
knew  not  if  one  of  them  was  on  the  coast,  yet 
here  they  were  with  me,  treed;  even  the  ghosts 
of  some  seemed  to  be  sitting  about  among  the 
living;  now  a  rolicking  company,  now  a  moody 
though  cheerful  older  company,  dearer  for  the 
lines  of  care,  dearer  for  the  casts  of  thought 
the  conflicts  of  years  had  printed  on  tjieir 


208        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

brows.  How  the  old  heart,  manhood's  heart, 
goes  back,  backward,  backward,  arms  stretched 
out,  to  rub  against  its  play-day  mates,  and 
turns  when  it  touches  them,  to  greet  them  with 
smiles  and  words  as  in  the  long  ago.  So  I 
mused  till,  when  I  looked  about  me  again,  my 
old  playmates  were  all  gone.  They  had  dropped 
out  of  the  tree  one  after  another,  while  I  was 
thinking,  and  hid  from  me.  I  called,  and  they 
wouldn't  answer,  and  I  scringed  lest  some 
mischievous  ones  of  them  were  about  to 
'chunk'  me  out  the  tree-top  from  their  hiding- 
places.  But  they  were  gone,  the  happy  hour  that 
bore  them  to  me  would  not  be  recalled.  Pike 
seemed  then  to  stretch  himself  on  the  big  limb 
next  me,  and  leaning  on  his  elbow  with  his  old 
self-poise,  said  to  me,  as  he  did  in  our  last 
hunt  together:  'Virginny,  as  our  old  mates 
drop  from  the  path  o'  the  living,  and  vanish 
out  o'  sight,  so  some  time  it  will  be  with  us. 
Don't  forget,  Virginny,  to  be  ready  for  that 
time.'  And  he  had  gone,  too,  and  I  was  alone 
again  among  the  tenantless  boughs. 

"The  short  night  was  verging  toward  morn 
ing  when  a  fire  sprung  up  in  the  solitary  bottom 
a  few  hundred  yards  back  of  me.  It  was  a  full 
blaze  when  I  first  beheld  it,  and  the  nearly 
naked  forms  of  many  Indians  were  soon  mov- 


CALIFORNIA    COLD-FIELD  SCENES.        209 

ing  about  it.  Their  grotesque  shapes  were 
sharply  denned  as  they  passed  between  me 
and  the  fire  they  had  kindled  in  a  heap  of  dry 
logs.  And  I  saw,  as  a  band  of  them  placed 
upon  the  pyre  the  dead  body  of  one  of  the 
tribe,  that  many  others  hurried  to  pile  upon 
the  glowing  heap  great  fragments  of  dry  drift 
wood.  They  reminded  me  of  fiends  tottering 
under  burdens  of  fuel  to  add  to  perdition's 
fury.  Soon  their  dead  comrade  was  ablaze, 
and  his  limbs,  as  the  burning  heap  jostled  and" 
settled,  moved  and  twisted  about,  and  the 
whole  form  afire  seemed  to  writhe  in  convul 
sions,  as  the  flames  moved  this  way  and  that, 
as  the  startled  air  rushed  from  or  toward  the 
pyre.  The  black  smoke  went  up  in  gusts,  and 
hung  in  dark  clouds  just  above  them,  and 
every  now  and  then  the  red  heat  and  dancing 
sparkles  shot  up,  in  fantastic  gyrations,  into 
its  bosom,  then  dropped  back  to  the  crackling 
heap  whose  hissing  roar  drummed  in  my  ear. 
The  Indians  had  formed  in  bands  a  few  yards 
from  the  pyre,  and  now  and  then  gestured; 
and  I  caught  the  notes  of  a  wild  chant.  Soon 
they  whirled  in  frenzied  circles  round  and 
round  the  burning  mass;  and  moans  and 
shrieks  reached  me,  resounded  like  some  imp 
ish  dirge  breaking  upon  the  chaste  wastes  of 
14 


210        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

paradise.  Bound  and  round  and  around  they 
whirled  in  leaping,  capering  antics;  distorting, 
contorting  their  dark,  squirmy  bodies;  now 
solemnly  erect,  then  rushing  in  frantic  coils 
round  the  burning  pyre  again  and  again,  until 
they  seemed  to  be  the  black,  impish,  quivering 
brink  of  h — 1.  Then  they  fell  apart,  down, 
and  rolled  over  and  over  without  the  fire  circle, 
into  the  shadow  of  the  trees,  and  uttered  a 
woful  howl  that  agonized  through  the  grove, 
'and  shattered  into  fiercely  mournful  echoes 
against  the  thicker  belt  of  timber  that  bordered 
the  river.  Then  all  was  silence,  not  an  Indian 
in  sight  but  the  remnants  of  the  dead  one  in 
the  heart  of  the  flames.  Suddenly  an  old  gray- 
haired  man,  and  crone,  hopped  out  from  the 
shadow  into  the  circle  of  light,  and  crouched 
together  close  to  the  smoldering  body.  They 
were  still  as  stumps,  save  every  now  and  then 
they  lifted  their  hands  on  high  and  wrung 
them;  and  I  knew  they  were  chanting  a  wail, 
as  sounds  like  sorrow  tortured  once  or  twice 
filled  me  with  a  pathetic  grief  I  could  not  re 
sist,  until  their  lorn  stark  scream  shrieked 
through  the  tree-top  where  I  sat,  startling  me 
to  my  shivering  feet,  as  they  tossed  over  and 
over  back  into  the  shadows  again. 

"Presently  other  fires  were  kindled,  and  the 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        211 

squaws  were  engaged  in  toasting  pieces  of  flesh 
and  entrails  of  boasts,  and  bearing  them  on 
scales  of  bark  to  the  warriors  squatting  on  the 
sward.  And  I  saw  one  snatch  a  raw  entrail 
from  the  clutch  of  a  squaw,  and  eat  it  dangling 
between  his  teeth,  with  a  greedy  gusto  like  a 
beast.  Soon  several  dusky  runners  entered 
upon  the  scene  bearing  the  black  bottles  of 
civilization,  and  the  whisky  gave  to  the  execra 
ble  feast  a  turn  that  made  the  camp  appear 
like  the  habitation  of  dragons. 

"How  beautiful  to  me  then  was  Christianity! 
The  burial  scene,  long  ago,  of  my  little  win 
some,  soft-eyed  sister  passed  before  me.  The 
tasteful  temple,  the  delicate  case  covered  in 
flowers,  the  prayers  and  hopeful  words  of  the 
minister,  and  sweet  hymns  of  the  decorous 
assembly,  the  words  of  the  resurrection  shed 
ding  light  upon  the  flowered  grave  where  we 
left  her  asleep  in  Jesus,  were  to  me  a  charm 
like  voices  from  the  heavenly  world." 

We  were  silent  now.  For  involuntary  tears 
had  fallen  along  Virginia's  cheeks,  from  the 
moment  he  had  said  "my  little  winsome,  soft- 
eyed  sister,"  and  his  words  thenceforward  had 
been  tremulous  and  low  and  tender,  till  he 
paused.  And  I  must  trust  you  to  pardon  me 
for  saying  that  I  stepped  without  the  tent  into 


212        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

the  shadows;  for  my  little  sister  Addie,  too, 
had  said  to  me  when  she  died:  "I  shall  be  in 
heaven,  brother,  waiting,  just  waiting  to  kiss 
you  there,  Quien."  And  she  seemed  to  me  to 
be  saying  the  words  to  me  again,  in  her  coax 
ing,  soft  way,  and  I  did  not  care  to  be  seen 
weeping.  O  there  are  words  niched  away  in 
the  heart's  depths  that  touch  it  so  tenderly,  at 
times,  that  it  would  nearly  break  were  it  not 
for  tears! 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        213 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

HER  EYES  WAS  MIGHTY  STRETCHT,  AN* 
SCART-LIKE. 

dawn,"  said  Virginia,  when  he 
resumed  his  narrative,  "the  In 
dians  were  gone;  and  descending 
from  the  tree,  I  found  my  purse 
among  the  branches  of  the  limb 
that  had  fallen  with  me  early  in  the  night.  I 
pursued  the  mule's  track,  and  wading  the  la 
goon,  found  my  blanket  pack  just  beyond  it. 
After  going  three  or  four  miles  I  met  an  lowan 
Who  told  me  he  had  corralled  the  mule,  and 
was  tracing  its  tracks  to  discover  the  rider. 
'I  am  glad,'  he  said,  'that  you  are  safe,  and 
within  a  mile  can  welcome  you  to  a  breakfast 
of  salmon  and  flapjacks.'  He  added,  as  we 
moved  toward  his  ranch :  *  Let  me  persuade  you 
to  tarry  with  rne  a  spell.  Just  now  is  a  time 
of  leisure  with  me;  stay,  and  help  me  to  be 
lazy.'  The  proposal  being  'pat  to  my  natur'/ 
as  Pike  used  to  intimate,  I  accepted,  thanking 
him  for  discerning  my  talent. 

"'Your  talent,'  lie  said,  'is  not  rare.     I  de^ 


214        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

voted  yesterday  to  the  lazy  problem;  and  calc1- 
lating  1,200,000,000  people  in  the  world,  I  fig- 
ured  up  seven  industrious  members  of  the 
small  community;  and  the  laziness  of  the  re 
mainder  averaged  twenty  tons  each.  I  put 
you  down  at  fifty  tons.' 

"'Me!'  I  exclaimed;  'you  knew  nothing  of 
me.  How  did  you  manage  to  particularize  so 
nicely?' 

"  'A  month  or  so  ago,'  he  replied, '  I  traveled 
by  stage  with  a  ruddy  man  who  described  his 
claim,  and  said  he  could  have  gotten  rich  upon 
it  were  it  not  for  three  of  his  partners,  who, 
besides  being  the  poorest  of  financiers,  were 
the  most  industrious  miners  at  being  lazy  in 
the  gold-fields,  and  that  one  of  them  would 
visit  this  valley  this  season.  That's  the  way 
I  come  at  the  heft  of  you  talent.  I  take  you 
to  be  one  of  Eothleit's  partners.' 

"Our  pleasantest  and  a  novel  amusement 
was  shooting  salmon  as  they  struggled  up  the 
shallows  of  the  river,  or  were  resting  in  the 
crystal  pools.  They  were  easily  killed  by  rifle, 
or  revolver,  as  far  below  the  surface  as  six  to 
eight  inches;  but  to  obtain  them  certainly, 
after  having  shot  them,  it  was  important  that 
the  bullet  pierced  their  heads  just  back  of  the 
eyes;  then  they  invariably  floated  to  the  sur- 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        215 

face  with  faint  struggles,  and  were  pulled 
ashore  with  canes,  or  taken  as  they  floated 
down  the  shallows.  We  lost  several  seven  or 
eight  pounders  by  inaccurate  shots;  and  when 
any  were  missed,  it  was  strangely  exciting  to 
observe  their  alarm  at  the  concussion,  and  the 
agile  freaks  of  curves  and  angles  they  dis 
played  in  darting  to  shelter  in  the  clear  depths. 

"  The  Indians  capture  them  with  a  long  stick, 
to  one  end  of  which  a  nail  or  piece  of  hard 
wood  is  bound  so  as  to  dangle,  to  which  a 
string  is  attached  that  tightened  along  the  pole 
brings  the  nail  to  a  point  when  thrust  into  the 
fish,  but  falls  to  a  horizontal  when  the  string  is 
loosed;  and  the  lithe  creature  cannot  then  get 
away,  however  it  struggles,  unless  an  opening 
tear  through  its  sides  two  or  three  inches  long. 
With  this  instrument  they  take  many  of  them 
in  the  running  season.  They  follow  the  river 
for  miles,  the  squaws  carrying  their  infants 
upon  their  backs  in  funnel-shaped  baskets,  or 
willow  lathes,  and  piles  of  salmon  also;  for 
their  haughty  lords  scout  every  burden,  except 
consummate  ugliness  be  one. 

"  While  wandering  on  the  river-side,  I  saw  a 
company  of  them  catching  small  fish.  They 
dived  to  the  bottom,  and  felt  with  their  hands 
under  the  roots  and  rocks  and  banks;  and  oft- 


216        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


en  they  would  bound  to  the  surface,  a  fish 
between  their  teeth,  and  one  in  each  hand. 
Occasionally  they  posed,  as  they  rose  to  the 
surface,  with  a  cunning  leer  at  their  sweet 
hearts  on  tho  shore,  as  though  about  to  eat 
alive  the  wriggling  fish  between  their  teeth, 
and  their  darlings  looked  down  upon  them,  and 
smiled.  So  the  Indian,  though  his  life  is  dark 
with  savagery,  has  -his  Red  Cloud  to  gild  it 
with  joy. 

"Everywhere,  woman  i&,  the  earth-angel.  In 
this  instance  her  black  hair  is  coarse  as  horse- 
mane,  grows  low  down  upon  her  forehead,  is 
quite  unkempt;  but  it  is  her  own,  not  borrowed; 
hair,  not  flossed  bark.  This  she  leaves  to  the 
Blonde  Cloud  who  pours  smiles  upon  the  In 
dian's  kind — Christianized  white  brother,  who 
never  cheats  him  of  any  of  his  land  except  the 
whole  of  it,  nor  of  any  of  his  fisheries  and 
game-haunts  except  all  of  them. 

"Wearying  of  fish,  we  crossed  the  treeless 
plains  southward  to  visit  an  old  Arkansas 
frontiersman  whose  life  had  been  spent  trap 
ping  and  hunting.  We  soon  parted  in  the  roll 
of  hills,  attempting  to  reach  different  bands  of 
antelopes,  and  I  had  ridden  an  hour  without 
more  than  glimpsing  him  upon  the  brown 
landscape.  While  watching  a  band  of  ante- 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        217 

lopes  grazing,  at  the  base  of  a  knoll,  in  tlie 
manner  of  goats,  he  turned  the  point  at  full 
speed  and  gave  chase  to  the  surprised,  bound 
ing  creatures,  singling  from  the  rest  a  lordly 
stag,  whose  dingy  antlers  like  sprangled  sta 
lactites  were  thrown  back  on  its  shoulders  as 
it  sped  wildly  toward  the  tules.  The  space 
slowly  diminished  between  them  till,  ere  eight 
hundred  yards  had  been  raced,  white  puffs  of 
smoke  told  me  the  revolver  was  at  work,  and  in 
a  few  more  convulsive  leaps  the  antlered  king 
fell  over  upon  the  sward,  his  last  race  run;  and 
we  left  him  there  upon  his  native  heather. 
The  lowan  said:  'This  is  the  second  antelope 
I  have  fairly  outrun  with  this  mustang.  A 
really  fleet  horse  would  have  come  up  with 
him  in  two-thirds  the  distance.  Antelopes 
scarcely  ever  go  more  than  a  mile  in  three 
minutes.' 

"The  mustang,  as  to  beauty  of  form,  speed, 
and  bottom,  is  usually  overstated.  The  domes 
ticated  horse  often  excels  him  in  those  quali 
ties,  as  well  as  in  docility.  He  is  too,  perhaps 
invariably,  tricky  to  the  end.  The  one  my 
friend  rode  was  a  select  specimen,  arbd  had 
been  subdued  to  the  saddle  for  three  years. 
Yet  I  would  not  have  risked  his  bucking  devil 
try- — or,  to  phrase  it  less  aptly,  bucking  ingenu- 


218        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

ity— for  him.  His  master,  however,  seemed  to 
grow  to  him  joyfully  in  his  mad,  stiff-legged, 
bouncing,  jerking  leaps,  to  unseat  him,  of 
which  'bucking*  is  the  descriptive  appellation. 

"The  flowers  had  retreated  from  the  plains 
to  the  quaggy  spots  of  the  valley,  and  fringed 
them  with  variegated  beauty.  And  the  wild 
oats,  having  long  matured,  had  fallen  before 
the  winds  and  wild  animals,  and  were  lying  in 
tangles  of  waste  over  thousands  of  smooth 
acres.  The  old  hunter  had  pitched  his  tent 
near  the  bank  of  the  small  river  of  the  valley 
we  had  entered.  Perhaps  the  name,  Mariposas 
Butterflies,  was  given  expressive  of  its  flowery 
splendor  in  spring  attracting  myriads  of  that 
many-hued  insect,  to  wing  away  their  short 
lives,  dancing  through  its  charming  mazes. 

"He  was  absent,  but  his  wife  and  children 
"welcomed  us.  Our  meal  was  stewed  rabbit 
and  boiled  cracked  wheat— nothing  else,  save 
the  inimitable  pleasantry  of  the  apologies  of 
the  hostess.  What  a  being  is  an  amiable, 
pure-spirited  woman!  That  dinner  was  a  lux 
ury,  made  so  by  the  welcome  of  the  heart,  which 
set  a  joy  with  us  richer  than  a  feast  at  which 
no  viands  were  missing,  not  even  a  welcome  but 
tMs  lacking  the  unique  grace  of  expression  and 
manner  of  this  daughter  of  the  frontier.  Sho 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        219 


knew  nothing  of  *  polite  life,'  yet  so  truly  did 
she  blend  in  her  character  the  high  virtues  of 
refined  womanhood  that  a  princess  could  not 
have  exceeded  her  in  commanding  respect  and 
imparting  happiness. 

"  But  the  hunter  was  at  home  an  hour  after 
dinner  with  supplies,  and  made  us  know  we 
were  as  near  home  as  we  could  be  outside  our 
own  tents.  We  were  on  the  plains  next  morn 
ing,  and  by  midday  had  killed  more  antelopes 
than  we  could  conveniently  pack  to  the  tent. 
We  had  lunched  and  napped  upon  the  carpet 
of  clover,  under  some  low-boughed  oaks,  when 
our  eyes  were  arrested  by  a  far-off  rifleman 
afoot,  passing  toward  the  valley.  And  the 
hunter's  spy-glass  brought  his  form  so  near 
that  he  recognized  him  as  his  brother;  and  the 
lowan  rode  briskly  away,  leading  a  horse  to 
bear  him  to  our  shade.  He  ate  the  remainder 
of  our  lunch  while  detailing  a  murder  perpe 
trated  thirty  miles  away  two  nights  before. 
He  said:  'It  was  jest  two  old  folk  a-livin'  by 
therselves ;  an1  they  lived  in  as  pritty  a  cove  as 
runs  out  from  the  main  valley  of  the  Merced, 
a  leetle  way  among  the  hills.  They  was  as 
innercent  a  good  old  couple  as  you  ever  see, 
a-tryin'  to  be  happy  by  hard  work,  an'  nobody 
lived  nigh  onto  them.  A  caravan  o'  Mexicans 


220        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


had  spent  the  day  close  by,  and  had  bought 
melons  from  'em.  They  went  to  bed  arly,  and 
a  leetle  arter  night  set  in  some  Mexicans  come 
iii  their  tent  and  cut  the  poor  old  man  to  death, 
an'  tied  the  ole  'oman  an'  rolled  her  under  the 
bed  onto  the  dirt  floor,  an'  tol'  her  one  on  'em 
would  stay  thar  and  watch  her  ontil  mornin', 
an'  ef  she  moved  he  would  cut  her  heart  out 
alive.  An'  thar  she  lay  ontil  arter  midnight, 
poor  ole  fursaken  creetur,  a-scart  to  ketch  her 
breath  a'most;  the  blood  out  o'  her  husband's 
heart  were  a-drappen'  off  the  bed  onto  her 
face,  an'  all  about  on  her.  But  hearin'  nothin' 
but  the  blood  draps  a-patterin'  agin  her  cheeks 
an'  'bout  on  her  hands  an'  dress,  an'  the  owls 
a-hooten'  in  the  tree  over  the  tent,  she  arter 
awhile  ontied  herself,  an'  peered  'bout  in  the 
dark,  for  the  moon  wern't  nigh  riz,  an'  the 
blessed  ole  creetur  as  she  crept  about  slipped 
down  in  the  blood  an'  hurt  herself.  But  seein' 
an'  hearin'  nothin',  she  crept  out  into  the  dark, 
an'  crossed  the  river,  an'  the  bar  thickets,  an' 
the  big  bottom  'mong  the  beasts,  ontil  she  got 
out  on  t'other  side,  an'  went  to  the  stage-stand 
afore  day-break,  an'  tole  'em  thar  about  it. 
Her  eyes  was  mighty  stretcht,  an'  still,  an' 
scart-like,  when  she  were  a-talkin'  o'  the  blood 
a-drippin'  an'  a-fallin'  pitapat,  drip,  drip,  pita- 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        221 

pat,  pit,  pit,  pitapat  on  her  face  an'  neck;  an' 
like  the  tarnal  fool  I  allus  was,  I  went  to  cry- 
in'  an'  a-breshin'  the  blood  off  o'  her,  a-sayin' : 
'Never  you  mind  it  any  more,  mother;  never 
you  mind  it;  you 's  'mong  frien's  note.  We  '11 
captivate  'em  afore  noon,  an'  regerlate  'em  by 
ther  necks  to  a  limb.'  But  the  women  tuck 
her  right  away  to  ther  room,  an'  was  a- whisper- 
in',  an'  runnin'  round  mighty  soft  in  no  time; 
fur  they  said  she  were  fainted.' 

"  We  were  all  silent  before  the  naked  horror 
of  the  statement.  And  the  hunter's  brother 
added:  '  We  sarched  the  valley  and  the  hills  for 
them  murderin'  robbers,  but  found  none  we 
could  believe  was  the  right  ones.' 

"'I  have  read,'  said  the  lowan,  making  a 
slight  rift  in  the  gloom  the  story  had  put  upon 
us,  'that  the  man  who  commits  one  homicide 
is  likely  to  kill  others;  that  to  shed  blood 
creates  an  inclination  to  shed  blood.' 

"'I  have  learned  to  b'lieve  that,9  replied  the 
hunter;  'I've  known  it  to  be  that  way.  A 
human  is  like  a  miser'ble  lion  that's  got  a 
taste  o'  our  blood— he 's  greedy  to  lap  it  ag'in. 
Better  destroy  a  man-killer  afore  he  kills 
someboby  else;  he's  whetted  up  fur  it.  It's 
so  with  me.  I  hate  a  snaky  Injun  wherever  I 
sees  him,  an'  am  real  sorry  these  pesky  Call- 


222         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

forny  tribes  ain't  wuth  shootin'.  I  Ve  had  so 
many  fracases  with  ther  sort  on  the  branches 
o'  the  Massysip  that  my  fingers  nateiiy  feel 
for  the  trigger  when  I  see  one  o'  the  yallar 
sarpints.  I  feel  like  shootin'  him  just  to  see 
him  jump,  or  to  hear  his  death-yell  at  the 
crack  o'  the  gun.  I  've  got  at  my  tent  now  the 
best  razor-strap  you  ever  see,  made  out'n  a 
piece  o'  the  hide  o'  one  on  'em  we  killed  atween 
Pike's  Peak  an'  the  Platte.  I  '11  show  it  to  you 
when  we  get  back  thar  to-night.' 

"And  dreading  lest  there  might  be  truth  in 
his  theory,  I  said  to  him  on  the  spot:  'Friend, 
I  'm  black-haired,  and  rather  dark,  sun-tanned, 
you  know;  and  my  clothes  are  none  of  the  best. 
If  you  see  an  Indian  on  the  plains  this  even 
ing,  take  second  look  before  you  shoot;  may 
be  it's  me.  And  I'm  not  ready  yet  for  the 
jump  and  death-yell  at  the  crack  of  your  gun.' 

"That  night  at  the  tent  he  showed  us  his 
*  Injun-hide  razor-strap,'  and  it  was  a  good 
one.  It  was  thick  as  calf -skin,  open-grained, 
yet  delicately  smooth  to  the  touch.  And  he 
said,  'I  stripped  it  off  from  atween  his 
shoulders.' " 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        223 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

APPEAEED  AS  THOUGH  THE  DEAD  WERE  ftlSEN, 
AND  WERE  MOVING,  GROUPING,  PARTING  IN 
NOISELESS  AWE. 


OCALTTIES  affect  us.  Mount 
ains  impart  their  ruggedness, 
not  rudeness;  valleys  their  soft 
ness.  In  the  one  the  mind 
dreams  quick,  clear,  but  dreams, 
yet  mounts  over  obstructions,  adhering  to  its 
purpose  till  the  height  is  attained.  It  then 
rests  up  there  and  drinks  in  the  scenes  above, 
about,  below,  and  throws  back  to  the  strug- 
glers  up  an  exhilarant  call,  and  bends  over  the 
brink  to  give  a  firm  helping  hand  to  them,  who, 
clinging  among  the  crags,  have  a  few  more 
crevices  to  thrust  fingers  and  toes  in  carefully, 
icell  as  they  can,  holding  on,  straining  up,  to 
get  on  top  to  do  likewise. 

In  the  other,  the  mind  dreams,  dreams  soft 
ly;  wanders  along  and  wanders;  and  in  the 
quietness  and  restfulness  of  the  scenes,  it  takes 
in  the  soft  sweet  thoughts  of  life,  and  dallies 


224        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


with  them,  fondles  them  till  it  becomes  enam 
ored  with  the  nicer  delights  of  the  heart  and 
leaps  all  separating  distances  and  floats  over 
every  barrier,  and  counts  all  else  but  loss,  till 
it  embraces  and  is  caressed  by  them.  At  least, 
so  it  had  been  with  Tom.  In  the  mountains, 
among  their  jumbled  heights,  jutting  promon 
tories,  and  wild  chasms,  he  was  a  jubilate,  keep 
ing,  however  tired  as  he  always  was,  joyfully 
to  his  one  purpose  of  gold.  But  soon  as  he 
snuffed  the  valleys,  and  dwelt  among  the  little 
hills  that  bordered  them,  the  tender  things  of 
life  asserted  themselves  till,  as  he  said,  he  was 
forever  kissing  them  in  the  air.  And  so  it  was 
now  with  Virginia:  his  return  from  the  valley 
was  the  signal  of  his  return  to  the  Atlantic 
States.  For,  as  we  were  sitting  one  day  in  early 
autumn  among  the  laughing  hills,  he  said: 
"I  shall  leave  by  the  next  steamer  for  the 
Atlantic  States;  shall  go  to  Kentucky  first  aft 
er  landing  in  New  York." 

I  was  not  at  all  surprised  when  he  said 
"  Kentucky  first,"  for  when  he  said  it  he  had 
open  in  his  palm  the  locket  that  contained  the 
little  bright,  quiet  picture  he  had  shown  to 
us  in  the  snow-storm  among  the  peaks.  So 
we  sold  the  claim,  divided  gains,  saw  him 
aboard  ship  at  San  Francisco,  and  went  again 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        225 

into  the  Sierras  far  northward,  and  took 
into  partnership  an  experienced  miner  called 
"  Maine." 

Though  we  discovered  a  rich  placer  among 
rollicking  cascades  and  echoing  forests  in  the 
depths  of  the  mountains,  the  new  environments 
somehow  admitted  to  me  hours  of  drearest  de 
pression.  It  must  have  been  in  one  of  the  dark 
est  of  those  evil  hours  that  I  wrote  to  Hoth  in 
New  York,  whither  he  had  gone  "  to  live  for 
ever,"  he  said. 

About  that  time  insanity  was  busy  with  men's 
brains  on  the  gold-fields.  Dissipation,  and  hope 
wrecked,  drifting  to  pieces  like  a  holiday  ship 
beaten  to  fragments  by  breakers  on  the  reefs 
to  the  utter  surprise  of  the  gay  voyagers,  had 
lashed  many  minds  into  distraught  fury,  and 
set  them  raving  on  the  gold-fields,  or  pursued 
them  with  blighted  dreams  to  their  old  Atlan 
tic  homes,  and  smitten  them  there  amid  the 
soft,  sweet  scenes.  Koth  knew  so  much,  or 
thought  he  did,  at  least  he  hoped  so  much, 
that  I  had  often  dreaded  lest  he  should  go  daft. 
And  at  last  the  dread  seemed  to  be  fully  real 
ized;  for,  while  visiting  a  town  a  dozen  miles 
or  more  from  the  mine  to  get  our  mail,  and 
deposit  the  gold  we  had  accumulated,  I  re 
ceived  from  him  the  following  letter: 
15 


226        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

"NEAB  C—     — ,  NEW  YORK, . 

"Dear  Quien:  Crazy.  Gone  mad.  Insane. 
Been  expecting  it  a  long  time.  Go  to  the  ex 
press-office.  Come  here  at  once.  It  will  help 
me  to  see  you.  Leina's  in  much  grief  about 
it — in  perfect  sympathy  with  me.  I  am  too 
nervous  to  write.  In  haste,  yours, 

"T.  E.  BOTHLEIT." 

After  reading  it  I  was  strangely  distressed 
about  Roth— thought  it  specially  hard  that  he 
had  survived  the  gold-field  mishaps  to  go  crazy 
so  soon  after  he  got  back  safely  to  his  family 
on  the  Atlantic  slope.  But  I  rejoiced  that  he 
had  mind  enough  left  to  know  that  he  was 
crazy,  and  to  feel  concern  to  have  me  with  him 
in  his  drear  paroxysms.  So  I  consoled  myself 
while  retracing  the  trail  athwart  gorge  and 
mount  to  the  distant  mine.  Stepping  from  the 
zigzag  trail  a  few  yards,  I  rested  on  the  skyed 
crag  that  hung  over  the  pretty  town.  {The 
town  two  thousand  yards  from  me,  and  many 
feet  below  the  crag,  seemed,  in  the  transparent 
atmosphere -of  the  season,  about  to  float  up  off 
the  rocks  and  hills  and  ravines  it  occupied. 
Its  streets  appeared  like  mere  alleys  from  the 
height,  and  the  busy  men  appeared  like  small 
boys,  and  scarcely  to  move,  though  all  astir,  I 
knew;  for  it  was  "business  hours,"  and  they 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        227 

were  on  the  rush.  Ladies  appearing  like  little 
girls,  seemed  not  to  walk  but  to  float  away 
from  cottage  gates,  and  pause  as  group  met 
group,  then  drift  apart  and  away  so  slowly  that 
the  mind  was  witched  as  the  eye  noted  how 
they  seemed  to  swim  apart,  standing  in  the 
ether,  so  softly  and  slowly  that  many  moments 
elapsed  before  any  separating  space  between 
them  appeared  to  the  beholder.  Not  a  sound 
came  up  to  the  crag  from  the  town;  so  they, 
men  and  women,  appeared  to  me  as  though  the 
dead  were  risen  and  were  moving,  grouping, 
greeting,  parting,  in  noiseless  awe.  They 
moved  apparently  just  above  the  ground,  for 
their  feet  and  lower  limbs  were  indistinguish 
able,  giving  the  impression  that  they  were  in 
a  sea  of  ether,  with  those  members  under  the 
surface;  for  not  a  footfall  of  all  the  many  in 
view^  pressed  the  earth  visibly  to  me. 

As  I  gazed  they  were  under  sudden  arrest, 
as  if  in  the  moment  planted  in  the  air  where 
they  stood.  Up,  down  the  streets  they  paused 
and  faced  in  one  direction.  I  saw  two  or  three, 
quicker  of  will  than  the  remainder,  hurrying 
like  little  balloons  in  human  shape,  up  a  street 
whitherward  every  one  seemed  now  to  float — 
some  faster,  some  slower,  some  veering  about, 
some  smoothly,  but  all  floating,  not  running. 


228         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


"Fire,"  I  thought.  But  as  the  eye  swept 
from  point  to  point  of,  to  me,  the  silent  but  re 
ally  tumultuous  town,  no  token  of  conflagra 
tion  was  seen.  Soon  the  throngs  poured  to 
gether  into  and  around  a  white  cottage  that 
crowned  a  hill  like  a  smile  of  peace  and  hope; 
and  I  knew  that  there  lay  the  motive  whose 
electric  spark  had  drawn  them  all  to  one  spot. 
But  I  heard  not  the  pistol-shot,  nor  saw  from 
the  crag  nearer  the  sky  the  suicide  in  the  rear 
of  that  pretty  home,  with  the  bullet  in  his 
brain,  kneeling  over  on  his  face,  who  had 
thrilled  the  multitude  with  one  thought — red- 
handed,  hard,  desperate  death. 

Now  and  then  an  incident  grates  upon  the 
keel  of  our  barques,  journeying  the  sea  of  life, 
and  fills  us  with  dismay  as  chartless  reefs  do 
sailors  on  the  deep.  Such  a  one  is  when  a 
sensitively  honorable  man,  as  in  this  instance, 
lays  violent  hands  upon  his  own  life  and  bursts 
through  its  casket  into  the  presence  of  God. 
We  inquire  of  the  horror  the  cause,  and  only 
echo  answers  us;  answers  us  whose  eyes  pierce 
not  deeper  than  the  reddened  surface,  whose 
ear  hears  only  that  which  is  voiced.  But  is  it 
therefore  hidden  from  retribution's  inquest? 
And  when  this  comes  does  it  not  often  disclose 
that  others'  sins  set  aflame  his  heart  with  the 


CALIFORNIA    G  OLD-FIELD  SCENES.        229 

evil  fire  of  despair;  that  others,  whom  he  had 
implicitly  trusted,  had  beguiled  him  into  a  sea 
of  trouble,  and  having  stolen  from  him  every 
refuge,  left  him  to  the  tempestuous,  reefy, 
chasmy  waves,  out  of  sight  of  rescue,  to  leap 
madly  into  the  depths?  They  may  survive— 
richer,  mightier  grow;  yet  how  can  their  glory 
foil  God — turn  from  them  the  arrows  of  his 
justice? 


230        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

BONAPAKTEAN. 

N  reaching  the  camp  I  said  noth 
ing  to  Mack  about  Roth's  insan 
ity;  was  averse  to  break  to  him 
the  grewsome  tidings  of  his  old 
comrade  and  special  friend.  He 
seemed,  too,  to  be  particularly  reticent  that 
night,  and  whenever  I  awoke  he  was  sitting  up, 
and  threw  quick,  searching  glances  upon  me. 
His  voice  had  an  anxious  yet  soothing  tone 
when  he  spoke  to  me  that  was  not  its  wont, 
for  it  was  habitually  an  exhilarant  voice  that 
conveyed  laughing  gas.  He  constantly  faced 
me,  too;  was  never  at  my  side  as  aforetime; 
and  in  the  morning  I  remarked  that  his  pallet 
was  untumbled.  If  he  slept  at  all  during  the 
night  it  was  a  nodding  sleep  from  the  camp- 
stool  opposite  me.  He  proposed  that  we  should 
not  mine  that  day,  but  rest  and  stroll,  as  he 
had  brought  on  vertigo  the  day  before  by  over 
work.  It  was  ever  an  easy  task,  Both  always 
said,  to  persuade  me  not  to  work;  so  we  lounged 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        231 


away  the  slow,  sunny  hours  till  noon,  when 
Wyche  L.,  Roth's  cousin,  came  to  us  from 
beyond  a  mountain  eastward.  He  had  come 
a  few  years  before,  fresh  from  the  college- 
halls  of  New  York,  to  California  soon  as  he 
had  been  graduated;  had  returned  to  his  old 
home,  and  was  now  back  again  on  the  gold- 
fields.  Skylarking  is  hardly  descriptive  of  him, 
but  enough  so  to  suggest  the  keennes^  with 
which  he  discerned,  enjoyed,  and  ministered  to 
the  absurdities  that  everywhere  in  the  gold- 
fields  bubbled  to  the  surface.  He  and  Mack 
interviewed  each  other  with  a  letter  between 
them,  apart  from  me,  after  which  I  somehow 
felt  that  they  constantly  and  with  kindly  con 
cern  watched  me.  If  I  stepped  to  the  mine  to 
have  a  word  with  Maine,  who  dug  and  scooped 
and  shoveled,  visitors  or  no  visitors,  as  though 
he  thought  the  gold  was  smothering  to  death 
under  the  rocks,  they  followed  me,  noting 
each  movement  and  expression  of  face  and 
eyes.  If  I  went  to  the  spring,  they  kept  me 
in  sight.  If  I  entered  the  conversation,  they 
sadly  glanced  and  blinked  to  each  other  the 
while.  So  I  scaled  the  mountain  to  see  the 
sun  jostle  his  wheels  against  the  coast-range 
and  plunge  over  into  the  sea  out  of  sight;  for 
I  tired  of  their  surveillance.  They  were  soon 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


at  my  side,  with  polite  pleasantries  as  excuse 
for  joining  me, 

It  occurred  to  me  that  then  was  the  oppor 
tune  time  to  inform  them  that  lloth  had  gone 
crazy ;  and  I  did  so.  Mack  looked  bewildered, 
and  sadder  by  far  than  I  had  ever  observed  in 
him  before;  and  Wyche  appeared  bewildered 
too,  and  strangely  sobered.  And  I  gave  Roth's 
letter  to  Mack  and  asked  him  to  read  it  out  to 
us.  After  reading  he  dropped  it  on  the  ground, 
and  his  sorrowing  eyes  fell  on  my  face  and 
leaped  to  Wyche's  in  startled  inquiry.  Wyche 
was  deeply  dejected,  and  I  began  to  regret  hav 
ing  given  them  the  tidings,  when  Wyche  took 
a  fit.  He  seemed  to  be  in  much  pain — about 
to  burst.  He  tossed  about  on  the  brown  grass, 
bit  his  lips,  pressed  his  sides  with  his  hands, 
dug  his  heels  in  the  turf,  rolled  over;  his  cheeks 
swelled;  his  eyes  shone,  twinkled,  danced  as 
they  fell  upon  me;  and  he  surrendered  himself 
to  the  fit  that  convulsed  him.  We  were  in  a 
few  minutes  about  to  bleed  him  with  a  small 
knife,  but  a  wrenching  spasm  twitched  him 
from  between  us,  as  his  paroxysm  whirled  him 
to  and  fro  in  a  boisterous  wave  of  ridiculous 
laughter.  But  as  he  tossed  to  me  the  following 
letter  Mack  caught  it  away  sadly  as  I  was 
reaching  for  it,  his  kind  face  full  of  confusion. 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD   SCENES.         233 

"  Nonsense,  Mack,  nonsense!  "  lie  exclaimed. 
"  He  '11  not  mind  Koth.  They  are  both  crazy. 
Give  him  the  letter." 

And  so  he  did,  and  here  it  is: 

"  -     — ,  NEW  YOKE, . 

"Dear  Mack  and  Wyche:  I  wish  I  were  there 
to  lislp  you  with  Quien  S.  I  know  you  are 
troubled  to  know  what  to  do  with  him  in  his 
insanity.  You  should  have  written  to  me  about 
it.  I  have  only  heard  of  it  by  a  letter  from 
himself,  and  I  infer  from  it  that  his  chief  de 
lusion — and  many  other  evil  delusions  always 
mix  with  that  —is  that  he  is  haunted  by  an  as 
sassin:  a  sick  whim  of  his  dazed  intellect,  of 
course.  While  with  him  I  had  much  ado 
to  keep  him  in  his  right  mind,  if  he  had 
any  such.  He  was  my  old  partner,  you  know ; 
he  can't  help  his  brains,  and  I  cannot  but  feel 
very  deep  concern  for  him.  Take  the  best  care 
of  him  for  my  sake. 

"  Usually  you  may  do  any  thing  with  him 
by  kindness;  but  if  this  fails,  and  you  are  care 
ful,  you  may  readily  scare  him  into  meas 
ures.  He  has  at  times  unwittingly  helped  me 
out  of  trouble,  and,  somehow,  I  like  him  for 
old  toil's  sake  on  your  coast.  Boys,  stick  to 
him.  Don't  let  him  be  taken  to  the  lunatic 
asylum  at  Stockton.  I  can  care  him"  (he  had 


234         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD   SCENES. 


but  one  cure  for  every  ill — tincture  of  arnica). 
"Decoy  him  to  the  nearest  town,  and  keep 
him  in  the  best  rooms  of  the  hotel  till  one  or 
both  of  you  can  start  to  New  York  with  him 
by  the  November  steamer.  Spare  neither  your 
selves  nor  money  to  make  him  comfortable. 
I'll  foot  all  bills.  Have  remitted  to  him  by 
express  enough,  I  hope ;  ought  to  have  directed 
it  to  Mack,  who  will  please  get  it  and  use  for 
Q."  (Mack  had  got  it.)  "Don't  chain  him; 
bind  him  with  soft  ropes  if  he  rages.  Do  n't 
for  the  world  hurt  him.  I  would  prefer  to  suf 
fer  half  death  than  he  should  have  a  needless 
bruise. 

"He  nursed  me  when  I  had  the  small-pox, 
he  called  it;  it  was  nothing  but  the  nettle-rash, 
really,  that  developed  under  his  treatment  into 
a  universal  splotch  of  overgrown  pimples,  and 
pitted  up  my  face  a  little"  (it  would  have  pit 
ted  him  in  a  thousand  spots  but  for  me),  "but 
it's  all  the  same;  he  thought  it  was  the  small 
pox.  And,  besides,  I  was  about  to  be  killed 
once,  and  he,  accidentally  no  doubt,  got  mixed 
up  in  the  melee,  and  trying  to  run  out  knocked 
over  the  man  who  was  sticking  his  bowie  into 
me,  tripped  one  of  the  others  who  was  pummel- 
ing  me,  and  butted  or  got  the  other  down  some 
how,  so  I  easily  managed  the  crowd.  On  some 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        235 

other  occasions  he  did  me  similar  small  fa 
vors. 

"  I  would  come  for  him  myself,  but  Leina 
dissuades  me,  and  says  'she  would  make  the 
voyage  for  no  such  fool.'  Boys,  if  you  will  be 
kind  to  him,  as  you  would  to  me  in  his  condi 
tion,  and  bring  him  to  New  York  yourselves,  I 
shall  always  thank  you. 

"Poor,  simple-hearted  fellow!  He  was  try 
ing  to  make  money  enough  to  return  to  the 
States  and  marry — I  forget  whom ;  some  sim 
pleton,  doubtless.  I  suspect  he  has  been  chis 
eled  out  of  every  thing.  He  was  never  better 
adapted  to  business  than  a  Digger  Indian  is 
to  translate  the  Odes  of  Horace,  or  construe 
the  language  and  brain  of  Goethe,  and  is  the 
worst  of  financiers;  hence  his  insanity. 

"But  I  will  meet  you  at  the  Astor  House 
1st  of  December.  Yours,  etc., 

"T.  R.  EOTHLEIT." 

When  I  had  read  this  letter,  lying  on  the 
turf  propped  upon  my  elbow,  my  right  ear 
clutched  in  my  hand,  Wyche  had  dismissed 
the  affair  from  his  mind,  but  Mack  still 
watched  for  insane  symptoms,  evidently; 
though  he  had  never  thought  of  one  in  me  till 
he  had  received  tho  letter  the  day  before,  and 
sent  Wyche  word  to  come  to  the  mine.  But 


236        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


he  at  least  repressed  his  doubts,  and  we  re 
turned  the  money  to  Both  with  some  exquisite 
specimens  for  his  wife  and  children. 

That  night  at  the  camp-fire  California 
"church-going,"  among  much  else,  was  dis 
cussed,  and  Wyche  said: 

"Not  long  after  I  got  to  this  country  I  at 
tended  a  church  service.  The  minister,  in 
some  illustrative  paragraph,  said:  'The  First 
Napoleon  was  greatest  of  the  Caesars.  Had  he 
been  like  "Washington,  too  great  for  a  palace, 
too  patriotic  for  a  crown,  his  name  could 
scarcely  be  peered  on  the  roll  of  the  ages. 
His  genius  mocked  kings  trampled  thrones, 
and  raised  France  to  be  a  power  so  great  as 
to  require  allied  Europe  in  arms  to  repulse  her. 
Nor  was  it  till  the  monarchs  knew  that  his 
ashes  were  urned  in  the  rock  in  the  ocean's 
heart  that  their  crowns  ceased  to  tremble.' 

"A  Frenchman  rose  to  his  feet,  stepped  into 
the  aisle,  paused  a  moment,  marched  to  the 
pulpit,  placed  a  coin  from  his  thin  purse  upon 
the  tablet,  and  fixing  his  eyes  in  the  preach 
er's,  said:  £Napole?/ooM  le  Grande!  Fr&nsay! 
Napolez/ooH//  There,  give  you  that;  go  now 
git  you  more.  Napole?/flo;z  /  /  /  ' 

"And  the  thrilled  old  Frank,  leaving  a  Na 
poleon  on  the  pulpit-tablet,  marched  down  the 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        237 

aisle  out  of  the  church  like  a  soldier  of  'the 
old  guard,'  eyes  flashing  as  though  a  volcano 
of  Vives  Napoleon  were  rumbling  in  his 
heart.  I  felt  like  the  Fourth  of  July  was  pres 
ent  cheering  the  old  Gaul,  and  was  ready  to 
lock  arms  with  him,  and  march  down  the  aisle, 
America  and  France  together. 

"  Some  months  after,  I  asked  the  preacher 
if  he  had  met  the  Frenchman  since.  '  Yes,'  he 
replied ;  '  as  I  stepped  from  the  church  to  the 
sidewalk  one  Sunday  afternoon,  he  was  passing 
up  the  street  by  zigzags.  On  meeting  me  he 
paused,  stood  erectly,  still  as  a  statue  a  few  mo 
ments,  touched  his  cap  in  military  salute  style, 
and  reeled  on,  his  eye  flaming  as  if  he  could 
leap  through  St.  Helena.  I  intended,  on  op 
portunity,  to  return  to  him  the  coin,  if  it  could 
be  done  with  proper  regard  to  his  sensibilities; 
for  I  noticed  at  the  time  he  gave  it  it  was  all 
his  purse  held,  and  I  thought  he  was  keeping 
it  as  a  memorial  of  the  France  of  his  early 
years.  But  as  he  passed  me,  veering  to  and  fro 
across  the  sidewalk  like  a  ship  lurching  be-, 
tween  waves,  I  knew  it  was  no  time  for  a  nice 
parley.  For  then  he  had  not  only  French  fire 
in  him  (which  may  God  bless),  but  hell-fire— 
that  is,  brandy — from  which  good  Lord  deliver 


238         CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


Mack,  whose  veins  carried  a  strain  of 
French,  from  his  Creole  mother,  said: 

"  Napoleon's  name  will  live  wherever  France 
has  a  son  worthy  her  motherhood.  It  is  mag 
netic.  Here,  with  many  years  and  continents 
and  seas  between  him  and  France,  a  banished 
Frenchman  lashed  by  broken  fortunes  and 
hope's  failures,  springs  to  his  feet  at  its  men 
tion,  makes  of  his  last  coin  a  thank-offering  in 
its  honor,  and  repeats  it  proudly  in  the  very 
chancel  of  God's  temple,  amid  the  homage  of 
worshipers.  It  is  the  synonym  of  the  people's 
governor,  the  people's  choice  against  heredita 
ry  monarchy.  The  fires  of  liberty  are  in  it, 
and  the  France  that  he  reclaimed  will  never 
down  at  a  king's  bidding  for  any  long  period. 
Her  licentiousness  and  infidelity  are  dying, 
and  as  she  drinks  in  the  pure  life  of  Christian 
faith  and  principle  she  will  rise  to  Christian 
liberty  and  equality.  Her  sentiment  is  the 
American  sentiment,  and  their  eagles  have 
been  in  sympathy  since  hers  brought  to  ours, 
in  its  conflict  with  kingly  tyranny,  her  diplo 
macy  and  treasure  and  blood.  Were  Napo 
leon  living  now,  he  wo  aid  be  the  president, 
not  the  emperor,  of  the  French.  The  name 
Napoleon  will  survive  that  of  Bourbon.  The 
name  Napoleon  will  survive  that  of  emperor." 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FILED  SCENES.        239 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

WITH  SONGFUL  WINDS  AMONGST  THE  BOWING 
FLOWERS. 


KNOW  not  which  was  merriest 
in  camp  that  night  because  of 
Tom's  letter's  estimate  of  me. 
Mack,  especially  after  his  Na 
poleonic  rocket,  seemed  to  vie 
with  Wyche  and  Maine  in  helping  me  to  re 
member  it.  And  you  may  have  been  waiting 
for  some  token  of  my  "feeling"  about  it. 
Feeling.  Well,  feeling.  But  you  know  Tom. 
Yet  I  think  he  believed  about  as  he  wrote. 
But  when  the  stars  blinked  midnight  to  us 
from  their  swinging  beds  we  were  all  awake. 
For  Maine,  who  had  snored  a  solo  an  hour  and 
more,  seemed  as  fresh  as  we  who  had  idled 
most  of  the  day. 

The  smoke  from  an  Indian  camp  floated  over 
a  ridge  and  settled  in  the  ravines  north  of  us; 
the  rivulet  leaped  over  the  little  falls,  but  was 
too  dry  to  make  much  fuss  about  it;  and  the 
donkey  waking  the  echoes,  crawled  nearer  the 
fire  and,  lying  down,  watched  us  pretty  much 


240         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

as  a  fine  old  mastiff  would  have  done;  while  I, 
in  memory  of  Tom  and  the  brown  donkey,  took 
him  a  loaf  of  bread,  and  staid  by  him  till  he 
ate  it.  I  returned  to  the  group  as  Wyche  said: 
"Tom,  however,  is  not  alone  in  egotism,  by 
many.  They  are  met  on  campus,  platform, 
bench,  in  the  temple  of  justice,  in  that  of  mer 
cy,  on  the  deck  at  sea;  almost  everywhere  they 
appear  whose  god  is  egotism.  You  refuse  to 
resent  the  absurdities  of  the  god  because  of 
the  virtues  amid  which  unhappily  he  is  throned. 
With  such  a  one  whatever  good  is  wrought  or 
evil  avoided,  lie  did  it,  however  trifling  the  part 
he  enacted.  Nothing  is  that  he  could  not  have 
bettered,  and  to  all  that  is  his  connection  there 
with  imparts  all  of  worth  that  attaches.  He 
looks  up  at  the  capitol's  dome;  it  is  an  archi 
tectural  marvel,  but  not  before  he  beheld  it. 
The  look  he  cast  to  it  invested  it  with  the  pen- 
cilings  of  genius,  and,  he  rather  thinks,  built 
and  paid  for  it.  He  is  drowned  in  the  surf; 
you  bear  him  to  the  strand,  recall  him  to  life; 
he  saved  himself — just  then  had  conquered  the 
wave  when  you  uselessly  grasped  him.  You 
find  him  unknown,  herald  him  to  fame,  make 
for  him  opportunity,  cluster  honors  upon  him ; 
he  did  it  himself.  He  is  as  oblivious  of  your 
handiwork  in  his  fortunes  as  the  world  is  of 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        241 

that  of  editors  in  supplying,  directing,  and 
wreathing  its  brain  with  honors. 

"If  he  speaks,  the  eloquence  of  Demos 
thenes  is  eclipsed,  that  of  Webster  a  baseless 
vision.  If  he  battles,  though  it  be  with  a  wisp 
of  cobwebs,  the  day  was  the  bloodiest,  the  slain 
countless.  His  definition  of  something  is  him 
self;  of  nothing,  the  world  without  him.  You 
do  not  disturb  his  conceit  by  bursting  his  bub 
ble;  yet  you  feel  that  egotism,  though  set  in  a 
coronet,  tarnishes  the  brilliance  and  repels  like 
a  serpent  coiled  among  flowers.  Ketaining 
your  attachment  for  the  man,  you  excuse  him 
by  laughing  at  the  god.  '  That  god,  Egotism ! ' 
you  say,  and  forgive  his  assumacy." 

"You  could  better  tolerate  him,"  said  Maine, 
"if  he  were  satisfied  with  self-puffing.  But 
he  as  certainly  detracts  from  others  as  he  ex 
aggerates  himself.  He  outlines  his  own  pict 
ure  on  a  large  scale,  and  much  overcolors  it; 
and  draws  others'  pictures  in  a  cramped  scale, 
and  much  overshades  them." 

"  Taking  others'  pictures  is  a  delightful  art," 
said  Mack,  "  if  numbers  devoted  to  it  are  good 
evidence.  Nearly  all  are  artists  in  this  line, 
each  esteeming  himself  ' an  old  master.'  If  the 
pictures  they  paint  with  lip  and  pen  are  'true 
to  life,'  this  world  hath  in  it  saints  but  one, 
16 


242         CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

devils  all  beside;  nobody's  great,  good,  but 
one,  and  lie  guides  the  pencil.  Ah!  here  the 
rub  is.  Egotism,  or  a  god  like  him,  inspires 
the  artist  to  shade  deeply  every  picture  save 
his  own,  and  this  the  vision  of  his  own  fancy. 
But  as  he  too  is  painted  by  another,  we  will 
find  him  grouped  somewhere,  a  scowling  rep 
robate  like  all  the  rest.  Only  if  man  had  made 
man,  what  a  wonderful  piece  of  mechanism  he 
would  have  been!  But  as  God  made  him,  and 
in  his  own  likeness,  he's  but  a  meager  beast 
at  best.  True  enough,  he  is  much  marred  by 
the  devil,  and  himself  far  bent  from  the  origi 
nal  design;  but  surely  he  has  not  been  defaced 
of  all  the  touch  divine.  They  must  see  him 
through  a  glass,  darkly,  or  their  pictures  would 
have  more  light,  less  shadow,  except  when  ex 
tremes  are  brought  upon  the  easel." 

The  points  of  fire  that,  at  intervals,  had  been 
coming  this  side  the  ridge  from  the  Indian 
camp,  like  magnified  points  of  stars  thrust 
through  the  fissured  ravines  nearest  its  top, 
had  widened  and  lengthened  and  run  round, 
and  met  in  the  narrower  spaces  here  and  there, 
till  it  appeared  like  many  islands  floating  in  est 
uaries  of  flame.  And  the  wind,  setting  in  from 
us  thither,  pushed  the  encircling  flames  rapid 
ly  upward  till  the  tops  of  the  ridge  appeared 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        243 

like  illuminated  cones  of  rock  and  plant  sink 
ing  in  the  roaring  billows  of  the  burning  sea. 
We  beheld  the  unusual  spectacle  with  bated 
breath.  And  as  from  her  lair  a  brown  bear 
with  her  cubs  started  this  way  and  that,  and 
climbed  to  the  summit,  and  watched  the  encir 
cling  flames  on  all  sides,  oar  hearts  hushed 
beating  in  the  concern  we  felt  for  the  poor 
beasts.  But  a  few  moments  decided  the  anx 
ious  mother;  and  placing  her  paw  caressingly 
upon  each  of  her  twins  for  an  instant,  she 
turned  down  to  a  point  where  the  fiery  estuary 
was  narrowest,  and,  lying  down,  rolled  over  it, 
followed  by  the  imitative  cubs.  An  involunta 
ry  shout  rang  from  our  throats  as  we  recog 
nized  the  grandness  of  motherhood  displayed 
in  the  bear.  And  as  just  below  the  circle  of 
heat  she  paused  on  a  broad,  fire-lit  rock  in 
safety,  and  licked  and  fondled  and  played  with 
the  cubs,  the  soft,  sweet  scenes  of  mother's 
love  and  delighted  tenderness  in  trouble  and 
in  joy  touched  our  hearts ;  and  as,  presently,  she 
pierced  the  unburning  chapparal  nearing  the 
little  stream  a-  hundred  yards  below  us,  the 
cubs  about  her,  huzza  after  huzza  greeted  her; 
and  she  turned  down  into  the  cool  gulch,  and 
was  safe  again.  When  the  conversation  that 
the  scene  and  incident  had  interrupted  was  re- 


244        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

sumed,  the  voices  were  softer,  as  though  out 
of  the  wildness  of  flame  and  beast  had  come  a 
sprite  of  gentleness,  imparting  to  us  a  rever 
ence  for  every  thing  that  God  had  made.  And 
Wyche  said: 

"There  is  but  one  'Master'  whose  pictures 
are  without  a  mistake — God.  All  lights  and 
shades  he  paints  us  in  are  faultless;  and  we  do 
well  to  receive  them  without  question.  In  him 
is  a  skill  that,  discerning  our  rippling  peni 
tence  and  faith,  transfers  us  to  the  canvas  so 
robed  in  these  that  our  pictures  glow  with  joy 
for  heaviness,  light  for  shadow,  the  hue  of  life 
for  that  of  death,  and  yet  is  true  to  life. 

"But  of  no  other  is  that  he  paints  of  you 
true  because  he  paints  it.  His,  at  best,  is  de 
fective  skill,  blemishing  its  pictures  with  its 
own  imperfections." 

"  Man  is  unfitted  to  paint  man,"  said  Maine. 
"  He  will  denounce  if  life  be  assassinated,  yet 
thrust  the  treacherous  blade  into  its  reputa 
tion.  He  is  emulous  of  good,  but  not  when 
good  is  evil  spoken  of.  He  is  ambitious  of 
success,  but  accounts  this  applause;  and  to 
gain  it  will  appropriate  another's  deserving  or 
minify  it,  and  magnify  his  fault.  He  will  ap 
prove  a  character,  yet  assails  it  if  so  wags  the 
world.  If  Christ  bear  the  cross,  not  the  crown, 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCEXtiS.        245 


he  '11  jeer  him  without  the  city,  and  jeer  him 
for  a  devil,  though  he  is  God.  He  discerns 
virtue,  yet  is  so  selfish  he  will  detract  from  it 
to  attract  to  himself,  or  dash  the  gem  to  pieces, 
lest,  himself  unadorned  by  it,  it  should  adorn 
another.  His  friendship  is  graceful  when  to 
bestow  it  is  profitable  to  him,  but  to  stay  one 
struggling  with  adversities  and  contempts  is 
too  strange  a  fire  for  him  to  warm  at." 

"Yet,"  said  Wyche,  "with  all  his  devilism 
there  is  something  God-like  in  man;  but  it  re 
quires  God  to  bring  it  out.  An  angel  would 
become  impatient  with  him ;  a  fiend  would  fall 
away  from  the  task  in  ecstasy,  and  say,  '  He 's 
good  enough  for  me;  very  like  my  brother;' 
man  would  caricature  him  by  distortion  and 
embellishment;  only  God  sees  him  as  he  is, 
and  is  adequate  to  accurately  picture  one  so 
lapsed,  yet  so  advanced.  Dipping  his  pencil 
in  the  blood  of  Christ,  he  blushes  sick  hu 
manity  with  so  sweet  virtues  that  it  shines  on 
the  verge  of  hell  like  a  scintillation  of  heaven, 
enlights  for  the  skies,  and  spheres  there.  The 
lip  is  hesitant  to  drop  the  blood  of  Jesus  often 
lest  the  pearl  of  fathomless  merit  '  fall  among 
swine.'  But  who  that  notes  the  soft  lines,  nice 
lights,  and  pure  shades  with  which  that  pur 
ple  Pearl  touches  man  but  has  his  numbed  be- 


246        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

ing  startled  into  reverential  amaze,  aspires  to 
be  vivified  by  it,  and  utilized  to  purity  and 
good?*' 

Maine  here  said  something  about  the  pul 
pit's  neglect  of  Jesus,  its  familiarity  with  phi 
losophies  and  oppositions  of  science,  its  unfa- 
miliarity  with  Biblicism ;  and  expressed  him 
self  so  pertinently,  yet  so  considerately,  that 
we  were  about  to  lose  our  picture  topic.  But 
Mack  woke  up  as  out  of  a  dream,  and  said: 

"The  art  of  taking  others'  likenesses  has 
tripped  down  to  us,  petted  by  clanging  ages, 
from  gray  antiquity.  More  than  thirty  centu 
ries  ago  an  old  Arabic  papyrus  was  unrolled 
before  the  eager  eyes  of  sages,  whose  words, 
like  floods  of  honey,  and  anon  like  floods  of 
aloe,  leaped  down  the  channel  of  time,  are 
leaping  still,  telling  of  a  picture  painted  by 
three  renowned  artists  of  this  school.  Many 
would  be  familiar  with  this  scroll  but  for  a 
malady  that  has  preyed  upon  the  priestly  line 
that,  as  Maine  says,  'hath  cankered  the  sur 
plice  and  nearly  eaten  out  of  it  the  image  and 
superscription  of  Jesus,  and  the  word  whose 
entrance  giveth  light.'  It  says: 

"  There  was  a  man  in  the  land  of  Uz  whose 
substance  was  very  great.  The  young  men 
and  the  aged,  the  princes  and  the  nobles,  rev-' 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        247 

erenced  him.  When  the  ear  heard  him  then 
it  blessed  him,  and  the  eye  when  it  saw  him 
gave  witness  to  him;  because  he  delivered  the 
poor  that  cried,  and  the  fatherless,  and  him 
that  had  none  to  help  him ;  and  caused  the  wid- 
OAV'S  heart  to  sing  for  joy.  He  was  eyes  to  the 
blind,  and  feet  was  he  to  the  lame;  and  a  fa 
ther  to  the  poor,  though  he  had  a  great  family 
of  his  own  to  provide  for. 

"  He  waited  not  for  suffering  to  report  itself 
ere  he  relieved  it,  but  the  cause  he  knew  not 
he  searched  out.  He  brake  the  jaws  of  the 
wicked,  and  plucked  the  spoil  out  of  his  teeth. 
He  neither  feared  a  great  multitude,  nor  did 
the  contempt  of  families  terrify  him.  Nor  re 
joiced  he  at  the  destruction  of  him  that  hated 
him,  nor  walked  with  vanity,  nor  hasted  to  de 
ceit.  Unto  him  men  gave  ear,  kept  silent  at 
his  counsel,  waited  for  his  words  as  for  the 
rain;  for  righteousness  clothed  him,  and  his 
judgment  was  a  robe  and  a  diadem.  He  sat 
chief,  and  dwelt  as  a  king  in  the  army,  as  one 
that  comfort  eth  the  mourners. 

"But  adversity  came  to  him.  His  children 
in  a  day  suddenly  died,  and  all  his  fortunes 
vanished.  An  evil  disease  gat  hold  upon  him, 
and  he  lay  desolate  in  ashes.  Then  fell  away 
"from  him  his  friends,  except  his  wife,  and 


248        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

she,  in  sympathy's  delirium,  bade  him  curse 
God  and  die.  They  that  were  younger  than 
he,  whose  fathers  he  would  have  disdained  to 
have  sit  with  the  dogs  of  his  flock,  had  him  in 
derision.  They  who  were  driven  forth  from 
among  men,  and  cut  up  mallows  and  juniper 
roots  for  their  meat,  and  brayed  in  the  bush 
es,  children  of  fools,  viler  than  the  earth,  made 
him  their  song  and  their  by-word,  and  spared 
not  to  spit  upon  him. 

"On  the  right  rose  the  youth;  they  pushed 
away  his  feet,  they  marred  his  path,  they  set 
forward  his  calamities.  Terrors  turned  upon 
him  and  pursued  his  soul.  His  bones  were 
pierced  in  the  night  season,  and  his  sinews 
took  no  rest.  His  bowels  boiled  and  rested 
not,  and  his  skin  grew  black  upon  him,  while 
his  bones  burned  with  heat;  for  Satan  kin 
dled  fires  within  him,  and  without  burned  him 
with  reproach,  until  he  became  brother  to 
dragons.  And  his  heart  also  was  turned  to 
mourning,  and  his  organ  into  the  voice  of  them 
that  weep. 

"Then  came  the  three  princes,  his  friends, 
to  take  his  picture,  and,  uniting  their  skill, 
produced  a  portraiture  of  him  so  perfect,  they 
thought,  they  hung  it  in  the  Hall  Inspiration. 
Its  expression  was  irreverent  folly,  cruel  op-' 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        249 

pression,  treachery,  selfishness,  hypocrisy.  And 
this  was  the  title  they  wrote  upon  it:  'Job, 
great  in  wickedness,  in  iniquity  infinite.' 

"Then  the  Almighty  appeared.  The  sol 
emn  mountains  laughed,  the  little  hills  skipped 
for  joy,  and  the  glad  sunshine  knelt  down 
with  the  songful  winds  amongst  the  bowing 
flowers,  delightedly  chanting  Alleluia  with 
happy  earth  and  the  shouting  sky.  So  he  too 
looked  for  good,  but  evil  came;  waited  for 
light,  but  came  darkness;  and  he  coiled  down 
lower  in  dust  and  ashes,  and  said:  'Behold,  I 
am  vile! '  and  scraping  himself  with  a  potsherd, 
wept.  His  three  painters  passed  by  and  said: 
'Aha!  aha!  *  But  God  came  even  unto  him,  and 
stooped  down  and  touched  him,  and  said:  '  My 
servant,  Job,  there  is  nono  like  him  in  the 
earth;  a  perfect  and  an  upright  man,  one  that 
feareth  God  and  escheweth  evil,  and  still  he 
holdeth  fast  liis  integrity.  Pray  for  them,  for  my 
wrath  is  kindled  against  them  to  deal  with 
them  after  their  folly.'  And  in  his  black  woe 
he  prayed  for  his  friends,  and  the  Lord  turned 
the  captivity  of  Job  while  he  prayed;  also  the 
Lord  gave  Job  twice  as  much  as  he  had  before. 

"In  the  meanwhile  Truth,  while  passing 
through  the  art-gallery  of  Hall  Inspiration, 
beheld  his  picture  placed  there  by  his  three 


250        CALIFORNIA  GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

friends,  and,  blushing  at  the  caricature,  went 
to  heaven's  portfolio,  and  brought  thence  the 
portrait  she  had  painted  of  him,  and  hung  it 
above* -the  other  without  note  or  comment. 
Repairing  to  the  hall  one  day  with  beautiful 
Charity  to  return  it  to  the  portfolio  as  heav 
en's  favorite,  she  found  it  nailed  by  the  Mas 
ter  of  assemblies  immovably  to  the  wall,  and 
this  inscription  in  the  handwriting  of  God:  'A 
perfect  and  an  upright  man.'  And  they  bowed 
their  graceful  forms,  and  worshiped  God  who 
judgeth  righteous  judgment. 

"'Truth,'  said  Charity,  'we  do  err  who 
judge  by  appearances.  The  prince  of  Uz  insist 
ed  that  his  friends  were  picturing  him  inaccu 
rately,  and  I  whispered  as  much  oft  in  their 
ears.  But  the  evil  they  thought  they  painted, 
and  called  it  after  the  perfect  man.' 

" '  Charity,'  replied  Truth,  '  to  err  is  com 
mon  with  man.  If  there  is  any  better  in  erring 
it  is  found  in  lighting,  not  shading,  a  picture. 
Let  us,  as  we  go  from  this  pure  hall,  in  its 
loving  inspiration  persuade  men  not  to  sur 
mise  evil  of  their  neighbor,  nor  to  think  more 
highly  of  themselves  than  they  ought  to, 
and  so  avoid  taking  inaccurate  portraits. 
Failing  this,  let  us  persuade  the  neighbor  not 
to  be  distressed  by  their  caricatures,  but  to 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        251 

stand  in  his  lot,  his  proper  character,  re 
gardless  of  their  fond  conceits,  till  the  end 
be. 

"And  they  passed  forth  on  their  mission." 


252        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THIS  KING  OF  THE  WEST — ON  THE  SHAPE  CAME 
CLINGING. 


YCHE  parted  with  us  the  next 
day.  To  what  fate  he  went  we 
cannot  say.  It  was  our  last  meet 
ing.  The  speed  with  which  the 
tumults  of  those  days  whirled 
persons  apart,  and  forever  hid  them  from  each 
other,  was  like  that  with  which  Norway's 
mythic  sea-whirl  swallows  the  boatman  and 
his  boat  to  be  seen  no  more.  And  to  what 
numbers  and  wonders  the  gold-field  maelstrom 
sucked  under  its  unfortunates  is  a  story  that 
perhaps  others  will  partly  unfold,  and  there 
will  be  wizzardry  in  it.  From  friend  hidden 
to  stranger  revealed  was  an  oft-told  tale  in  the 
golden  phantasms  that  hurled  us  together  and 
tossed  us  apart  in  the  ruder  days  of  the  Cali 
fornia  gold-hunt. 

Maine  was  energetic,  saving,  yet  generous 
and  good-humored.  He  loathed  nothing  but  an 
Indian,  and  despised  nothing  but  a  negro,  for 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         253 

whose  freedom  lie  was  ready  to  argue  when 
ever  he  could  do  so  without  loss  of  time  from 
gold-gathering.  He  would  not  endure  a  darky's 
cookery — always  sweeter  to  Mack  and  me  than 
any  other — and  contact  with  him  his  honest 
abolition  heart  abhorred.  When  we  specially 
hungered  for  something  good  to  eat,  and  called 
in  black  Sam,  who  said  he  was  "from  Mas- 
sysip,"  and  pretended  to  mine,  with  others, 
half  a  mile  below  us,  and  gave  him  the  free 
dom  of  our  larder  to  get  up  the  best  feast  he 
could,  Maine  would  spend  the  day  down  in  the 
claim. 

When  dinner  was  ready  on  such  occasions, 
old  Sam's  "Halloo!  "  would  rollick  through  the 
mine,  and  though  Maine  would  neither  heed 
it  nor  our  "  Come,  let 's  to  that  feast,"  he  nev 
er  demurred  to  the  program  m>e.  "  Every  one 
to  his  taste,"  he  would  say,  and  work  away 
contentedly.  At  first  when  we  came  without 
Maine  and  sat  down  to  the  washed  log  and 
scoured  tins,  and  savory  dishes  of  old  Sam's 
skill,  he  would  say,  " Whar 's  Mas  Maine?" 
Mack  answered,  "  This  is  his  fast-day." 
The  old  shine  grunted  a  disapproval,  but 
said  nothing.  The  next  time,  the  same  ques 
tion  and  answer  drew  from  him  the  comment: 
"He  cust  turrer  day,  an'  cussin'  an'  fastin' 


254        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

doan  'long  togedder."  It  was  duly  reported 
to  Maine,  with  such  flourishes  as  Mack  thought 
fit  to  improvise. 

About  the  fifth  occasion  of  the  sort  he  asked 
no  questions  for  several  minutes,  but  sat  near 
upon  a  stump  watching  with  great  satisfaction 
as  morsel  after  morsel  played  hide-and-seek 
between  our  lips.  As  he  filled  our  tins  with 
the  third  pour  of  his  delicious  coffee,  he  said: 
"Wha'  dat  Mister  Chunk;  he  doan  come  eat 
he  dinner?" 

"Who?"  queried  we. 

"  Dat  chunk  you  partner  wid,"  he  answered. 

"O,"  replied  Mack,  "he's  gouging  a  speck 
of  gold  out  of  a  piece  of  cement,  and  is  afraid 
it  will  jump  out  and  hide  if  all  leave  the  mine. 
But,  Sam,  he's  more  like  the  ridge-pole  of  a 
cabin  than  like  a  chunk." 

"No,  sah,"  he  answered;  "he  like  nutting 
dat  'longs  to  a  cabin.  He  like  de  'ceevin' 
chunk  'cross  de  by-yore;  you  step  on  'im,  thinks 
yer  gwine  'cross  safe;  he  role  over,  drap  you 
in  de  water  fur  drown.  He  think  nigger 
skin  too  blarck  fur  'im  to  eat  arter.  Nigger 
heart  whiter 'n  his'n,  an'  he  skin  ain't  much 
blarcker." 

Here  Maine  came  round  the  tent  corner. 
Old  Sam  never  budged,  but  a  queer  grin 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        255 

wrinkled  his  face  as  he  said:  "You  bofe  better 
eat  dem  brown  pieces;  he  done  mighty  par- 
feet." 

I  said,  "  Fix  Chunk's  place." 

And  Maine,  whose  face  glinted  with  pleas 
antry,  having  overheard  Sam's  comments, 
christened  his  new  name,  Chunk,  by  which  he 
went  thereafter  in  the  diggings,  by  a  meal  that 
would  have  done  credit  to  Tom  in  the  early 
stage  of  his  nostalgic  attack.  Sam  seemed 
never  so  happy  as  when  attending  to  our 
feasts,  and  always  said,  "I  charges  nuffin." 
But  Chunk  said  the  reason  was  he  knew  that 
was  the  way  to  double  wages.  He  often  came 
unbidden  to  the  camp,  never  unwelcomed,  and 
went  away  with  a  glad  step,  for  he  went  full- 
handed,  and  I  may  add  full-hearted.  For  at 
least  Mack  appeared  to  know  precisely  how  to 
cheer  and  fill  him  with  sunshine,  and  yet 
seemed  never  to  try  to  do  so.  And  Chunk, 
too,  learned  how  to  make  him  glad,  but  often 
said,  "I  wouldn't  live  in  a  land  of  niggers  for 
the  hull  South." 

Already  the  hoar-frost  was  shivering  upon 
every  green  thing  and  every  damp  spot.  The 
heights  woke  up  of  mornings  with  veils  of  va 
por  tucked  around  their  heads;  the  slopes 
smoked  with  heavy  mists;  and  along  the  rivu- 


256         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD   SCENES. 

let's  chasmy  course,  and  up  each  gorge,  clouds 
of  fog  tottered  slowly,  to  melt  away  in  the 
clear  ether  nearer  heaven.  So  we  knew  gruff 
winter  would  soon  build  citadels  of  ice,  and 
spread  thick  wastes  of  snow  about  us.  But 
the  phantom  of  gold  sung  to  us  out  of  the 
mists  and  wintry  signals  as  musically  as 
though  April's  buds  were  popping  about  us, 
and  spelled  us  to  the  spot. 

Fifty  feet  above  the  streamlet  the  stubborn 
granite  jutted  widely  out  from  the  mountain 
side  ;  and  Maine  and  I  having  agreed  to  spend 
the  winter  there,  Mack,  before  leaving,  helped 
us  drift  a  large  room  under  the  granite.  We 
closed  the  front  with  heavy  pickets,  hedged  it 
with  deeply  planted  cedars,  and  corded  fire 
wood,  and  stored  it  with  provisions. 

Mack  bid  us  good-by.  But  he  said,  as  he 
stood  in  the  trail  ready  to  start:  "I  will  write 
from  San  Francisco,  then  from  New  Orleans. 
I  hope  you  shall  be  as  happy  and  successful 
as  my  heart  wishes,  and  as  my  life  with  you 
both  has  been  pleasant."  And  he  turned  down 
the  trail,  and  was  hidden  by  the  jungle. 

Maine  said,  as  his  eyes  followed  him  out  of 
sight:  "  Before  the  associations  of  this  copart 
nership,  I  felt  that  the  Northern  and  the  South 
ern  man  were  the  contrary  the  one  of  the  oth- 


CALIFORNIA    COLD-FIELD  SCENES.         257 

er,  each  the  other's  reverse,  no  harmony,  nor 
could  be.  But  these  are  only  prejudices — hid 
den  rocks  fretting  the  waters  of  the  heart  that 
should  be  blown  out,  or  sunk  through  to  Chi 
na.  "Why  will  the  heart  be  a  jagged-bottomed 
archipelago  where  counter-currents  dash,  in 
stead  of  the  quiet  deep  where  we  float  with  a 
sense  of  security  and  peace?  Mack's  a  world 
of  good  feeling  and  pure  principle ;  quick,  but 
too  courteous  to  be  on  the  offensive." 

November  floundered  carelessly  upon  the 
mountains.  Its  glad  suns,  its  cool  moons,  its 
quiet  and  holiday  airs,  its  changing  leaves 
and  falling,  its  occasional  mists,  its  Indian- 
summery  warmths  interrupted  now  and  then 
by  the  winds  upon  rampages,  and  soughing 
or  whistling  afterward,  as  the  humor  was, 
filled  us  with  a  diversity  of  emotions  as  de 
lightful  as  were  the  physical  sensations  they 
imparted.  And  in  the  mine  a  richer  vein  had 
been  cut,  and  we  were  pursuing  its  golden  run 
and  catching  its  golden  drops  in  shovel  and 
pan  and  girdle,  and  storing  them  in  a  secret- 
ing-vault  convenient  of  defense,  if  not  defiant 
of  discovery.  And  so  we  toiled  in  the  glow  of 
hope  realized,  and  often  in  the  zest  forgot 
breakfast;  and  dug  and  washed  and  laid  by  in 
the  sun  to  gleam  and  dry,  the  little  and  larger 
17 


258         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


nuggets,  till  high  noon  laughed  at  us  from  the 
dun  skies;  a  harried  dinner,  and  then  till  twi 
light  nodded  into  night,  when  we  supped  and 
slept  to  awake  with  the  light  and  repeat  the 
days  that  had  just  passed.  But  any  old  miner 
could  have  told  us  "it  could  not  last;"  either 
we  would  give  out,  or  the  vein.  In  this  in 
stance  it  was  both.  But  in  the  three  weeks  our 
vault  had  received  nearly  five  hundred  ounces 
on  deposit,  and  we  were  now  tranquilly  hunt 
ing  the  vein  again. 

As  Maine  scaled  the  steep  with  a  bucket  of 
water  one  noon  to  the  narrow  belt  of  plateau 
that  clung  about  our  granite  room,  a  herd  of 
deer  leaped  from  near  our  hedge,  and  fleeing 
along  the  mountain-side  a  few  hundred  yards, 
browsed  as  if  oblivious  of  us.  He  reported 
that  an  Indian  tribe  was  gathering  at  the  mine, 
and  would  break  things  to  pieces,  he  feared. 
But  a  glance  revealed  that  there  were  but 
twenty  or  thirty  of  the  forest  kings,  and  these 
not  bent  on  mischief.  One  of  them  lounged 
up  to  the  tent,  and  said:  "  Whizkee,  tarn, 
coot." 

Maine  replied  by  showing  him  an  empty 
bottle.  He  smelled  it  and  said  with  emphasis: 
"No  smell;  whizkee  not,  tarn.  No  want  'em." 

And  as  he  turned  away,  Maine  said:  "And 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         259 

so  this  king  of  the  "West  has  taken  on  two 
touches  of  Anglo-American  civilization — pro 
fanity  and  love  of  whisky.  How  rapid  the 
spread  of  vice!  how  easily,  as  to  it  born,  the 
heart  gives  it  bed  and  board!" 

California  appeared  to  grow  bottles  in  those 
days.  They  were  met  with  everywhere.  The 
towns,  highways,  trails,  plains,  valleys,  hidden 
fastnesses,  peaks,  trees,  were  sprinkled  with 
bottles.  If  Humboldt  had  delayed  his  "  Cos 
mos"  till  then,  he  likely  would  have  written: 

"The  peculiarity  of  this  section  of  the  earth 
is  its  chief  fruit,  b.  bottles,  which  crop  out 
upon  its  diversified  surface  in  vast  quantities 
and  many  varieties;  odor,  whisky.  Occupa 
tions,  filling  and  emptying  bottles.  The  in 
habitants  are  industrious;  day  and  night  they 
may  be  seen  lying,  sitting,  squatting,  stand 
ing,  in  houses,  on  roads  and  trails,  on  path 
less  plains  and  mountains,  on  peak-tops,  in 
abysses,  holding  the  big  ends  of  bottles  toward 
the  sky,  small  ends  growing  to  their  lips,  their 
throats  gurgling,  swallows  in  lively  commo 
tion.  I  saw  some  of  the  population  otherwise 
employed.  Instance,  Maine  and  his  partner. 
But  they  had  bottles,  empty.  Inference,  bot 
tles  here  grow  to  human  lips;  fall  when 
empty;  many  fall,  almost  instantly;  replaced 


2GO         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD   SCEXKS. 


by  larger  ones,  if  possible.  At  Bottletown, 
back  in  the  Sierras,  is  a  great  pine  whose  cap 
bud  is  a  bottle — bottom  up,  of  course.  Query: 
Do  the  very  trees  here  drink  whisky?  Name 
of  section  suggested:  Bottellas  Infinitas." 

We  directed  the  Indians  to  the  deer.  And 
immediately  each  red  man,  with  bow  and  arrow, 
glided  up  a  ravine  to  be  in  position  when  the 
herd  should  dash  down  it;  for  one  had  been 
sent  to  turn  them  thither.  Two  of  the  startled 
creatures  were  mortally  wounded  by  the  clum 
sy  arrows  of  the  red  bowmen,  and  fell  on  the 
opposite  mountain,  whence,  amid  many  genu 
flections,  the  overjoyed  Indians  hurried  with 
the  carcases  into  wilder  gloom  among  the  loft 
ier  heights  northward.  And  as  they  dipped 
behind  a  spur  beyond  view,  Maine  exclaimed, 
"  What  is  uncultured  man  but  a  wonderful  or 
a  ridiculous  beast?" 

The  snow  had  come  again,  and  its  leaps  and 
falls  and  somersaults  and  gyratory  recoils  and 
tumbles  over  the  whitened  world  about  us 
made  us  to  rejoice  that  our  drift  for  gold  had 
led  us  into  a  tunnel,  where  we  could  toil  un 
hindered  by  its  thickening  tempest  for  awhile. 
But  soon  it  beat  us  out  of  that  by  closing  its 
mouth  and  snowing  it  under,  and  freezing 
down  upon  it  and  every  thing,  in  thick,  vast, 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        261 

wavy  folds,  as  though  the  world  had  emptied 
a  century  of  its  cotton  crop  about  us,  and  the 
fleecy  thing  were  stunned  with  wonder  at  the 
"tumble"  it  had  had  at  last,  and  were  dy 
ing  here  amid  groaning  forests,  and  the  soft 
notes  of  its  child-flakes  coming  to  rest  upon 
its  bosom  in  the  mighty  stretch  of  frozen 
jungle. 

To-night  the  sky  had  cleared.  Moon  and 
stars,  and  the  spaces  of  blue  between  them, 
seemed  to  be  throwing  down  upon  white- 
robed  earth  irrepressible  congratulations  for 
the  simple  purity  of  her  dress,  and  in  their 
rayed  joys  and  earth's  white  light  objects  in 
the  thin  air  appeared  strange  and  bewitching 
to  the  eye.  Maine  had  gone  from  the  tent  for 
an  armtul  of  kindling  he  had  prepared  for 
morning,  or  midnight  uses  on  demand,  and 
called  me  out  to  notice  a  man  on  the  mount 
ain-side  opposite  the  camp.  He  was  in  three 
hundred  feet  of  us,  though  he  would  have  to 
come  as  many  yards  to  reach  us.  The  gait, 
air,  shape,  size,  stride,  motion  were  Pike's,  and 
I  said,  "  Pike's  ghost." 

Maine  glanced  at  me  keenly.  I  think  Tom's 
letter  came  back  to  him  then,  and  he  thought 
it  was  true  as  it  said  "  Crazy;  "  but  it  said  also, 
"He  can't  help  his  brains;"  nor  I  couldn't. 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

But  on  the  shape  came,  clinging  there  to  an 
iced  sappling,  and  there  to  a  jutting  iced  rock, 
and  there  sliding,  and  then  slipping  about 
but  not  falling;  and  now  it  stood  and  threw 
an  eager  look  across  the  chasm  to  us,  and 
said,  "Is  Quien  over  thar?" 

I  had  a  thought  of  denying  my  name — the 
voice  was  Pike's;  but  I  answered  readily 
enough  for  so  cold  a  night:  "Yes.  Cross  just 
above  where  you  stand,  if  you  do  stand." 

But,  with  his  old-time  daring,  he  skated 
down  to  the  rivulet's  bed  just  where  he  was, 
where  I  met  him  to  show  him,  politely  as  pos 
sible,  the  best  way  up  to  our  room  in  the  rock. 
He  looked  at  me  closely  with  the  old-time  look 
a  moment  in  the  moonshine  when  we  got  to 
gether  on  the  stream's  frozen,  shivering  face, 
and  said:  "It's  you,  sartin;  nothin'  onbeauti- 
fuller  in  natur'  'cept  Tom." 

It  was  Pike,  soul  and  body;  and  I  began  to 
think,  "May  be  it's  the  resurrection  coming 
on; "  but  he  grasped  me  by  the  arm  like  a  vise, 
yet  his  hand  trembled  too,  and  his  eyes  were 
misty  withal,  as  he  said:  "I've  come  a  long  way 
ter  shake  your  hand,  for  poor  Eacket's  sake. 
Tom  gin  me  your  pictur'  more'n  a  year  ago, 
when  he  were  gittin  onto  the  steamer  fur  the 
States.  It's  you,  I  know." 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        263 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  I  believe  it  is,  is,  now.  Come 
up  to  the  camp."  And  he  nearly  carried  me 
up  the  steep. 

He  toasted  himself  before  the  fire,  precisely 
as  I  had  seen  Pike  do  many  times;  every  feat 
ure,  the  entire  physique,  manner,  tone,  lan 
guage,  glance,  smile,  was  Pike  from  under  the 
cairn.  "It's  Pike,"  I  thought  again.  But  I 
asked  him  if  he  and  Eacket  were  kin. 

"Kin?"  he  said;  "yes;  Racket  and  me's  the 
same."  Here  the  pause  was  a  period,  and 
Maine  glanced  at  me  questioningly ;  but  he  add 
ed  in  a  soft  melody  of  voice:  "  Leastwise  Eack 
et  and  me  is  twin-brothers.  He  writ  me  much 
of  you  and  Tom  afore  you  laid  him  away 
under  the  rocks  to  rest  till  judgment.  God 
bless  you  for  it,  stranger!  I've  been  to  his 
grave,  and  the  manzanita  hev  locked  hands 
over  it,  like  the  very  bushes  loved  him. 

"I've  got  a  ranch  in  Sacramento  Valley; 
an'  you  must  go  spend  the  winter  with  me.  I 
come  arter  you  a  purpose.  You  '11  friz  inter 
ice  here,  an'  now  Tom 's  gone,  you  are  bound 
ter  be  the  onlikeliest  lump  thar  is.  This  is 
my  third  trip  a-huntin'  on  you.  A  fellow 
named  Wyche  wer  tellin'  a  red-whiskered 
doctor  in  Sacramento  four  days  ago  'bout 
your'n  an'  Tom's  crazy  scrape;  an'  I  ax'd 


264         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD   SCKNES. 

him  ef  he  knowed  whar  a  friend  could  find 
yer  right  away.  An'  he  said,  *  In  twenty  mile 
o'  Downieville,  more  or  less.'  Thar  a  packer 
told  me  you  were  in  these  diggin's  some'rs, 
fur  he  'd  brought  you  a  kergo  o'  grub  a  month 
ago." 

"You  have  suffered  in  the  icy  tramp,"  I 
said,  "but  we  have  a  supper  ready  for  you; 
the  steaming  coffee  will  impart  some  warmth. 
But  how  did  you  and  Tom  become  known  to 
each  other?" 

There  was  a  smile,  the  humorous  smile  of 
Pike,  on  his  face  at  the  question,  but  his  voice 
was  tender  as  a  girl's  while  repeating  the  first 
sentence  or  two,  as  he  answered:  "Mother 
were  allus  a-lookin'  out  the  door  in  ole  Mis 
souri  fur  Racket  ter  come  down  the  road  from 
Californy;  but  he  never  come.  She  didn't 
live  long  arter  we  got  Racket's  package  yer 
sent  when  he  died;  and  the  letter  you  writ 
were  in  her  bosom  when  she  were  dyin';  an' 
we  buried  it  with  her.  So  I  moved  west,  an' 
kept  a-movin'  till  I  got  to  San  Francisco. 
I'd  been  thar  a  few  days,  at  the  Tremont, 
when  a  fat,  red-faced  chap  kept  a  pryin'  into 
my  face.  Wharever  I  were  thar  he  were 
a-lookin'  at  me  like  crazy.  So  I  went  inter 
the  streets,  but  thar  he  were  a  follerin'  an' 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        265 

a-starein'  at  me.  I  went  ter  the  wharf 
among  the  ships,  an'  at  every  turn  he  'd  be 
a-watchin'  on  me.  I  got  tired  on  it,  an'  went 
up  to  him,  at  last,  an'  said:  'Look  a-here, 
you'ev  been  arter  me  long  enough.  Do  you 
want  anything  o'  me?' 

"  'Yes,'  he  said,  'yes  I  do.  I  want  to  know 
whar  you  come  from,  who  you  are,  and  all 
about  you.' 

"  'Waal,'  said  I,  'I  come  from  old  Missouri, 
kin  take  care  of  myself,  an'  my  name's  Jim 
Knight.'  His  eye  sparkled  soft-like,  and  he 
laid  his  hand  on  my  shoulder,  and  said:  'It's 
Racket's  brother,  ef  it  ain't  himself.'  And 
then  I  had  to  stay  in  his  room,  an'  go  whar 
he  went,  an'  be  right  with  him  until  he  got  on 
the  steamer  fur  Panama.  That  unor'nary  chap 
loved  Eacket  teetotally." 

Jim  tarried  with  us  several  days,  enlivened 
the  hours  with  anecdote  and  song,  hunted  in 
the  "frizen  things;"  and  his  rifle-shots  were 
fatal  to  several  deer  and  bears,  which  he  salted 
down  for  us  in  a  "smokeus,"  he  called  it,  that 
he  dug  out  for  us  in  the  back  of  our  room. 
When  he  left  us  he  said:  "You  won't  ranch 
it  with  me  nohow.  But  mind,  ef  ever  mis- 
fortin  gits  the  uppermost  on  you,  manage  to 
let  me  know,  an'  I  '11  be  with  yer  like  light- 


2G6         CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

nin'.  You  were  clever  to  Racket,  an'  I  wish  I 
could  bring  yer  'tarnal  joy  far  it." 

"Fraternal  love,"  said  Maine,  "lodged  in  a 
man's  heart  is  a  fresh  and  noble  grace.  It  has 
survived  bitter  experiences.  It  comes  to  cheer 
when  the  burdens  oppress,  when  sorrows  have 
pierced,  when  passions  have  scorched,  when 
wrongs  have  filled  with  thorns  of  poison  and 
pain.  To  me  Joseph  is  in  no  instance  greater 
than  when,  rendering  excuse  for  the  sin  of 
his  brothers  against  him,  he  takes  them  out 
of  their  poverty  and  famine,  and  enriches  and 
ennobles  them.  The  selfish  Egyptian  court 
ier,  possibly,  sneered  at  the  deed  and  feeling; 
but  the  angels  said,  '  It  is  love — it  makes  him 
like  God,'  and,  catching  fire  from  next  the 
throne,  sped  from  heaven  and  anointed  him 
with  immortality.  Such  a  one  rises  to  Jim 
Knight's  sentiment:  'You  were  clever  to  my 
brother,  and  if  ever  misfortune  gets  the  up 
permost  of  you,  manage  to  let  me  know,  and 
I  will  be  with  you  like  lightning.' " 

I  liked  Maine  the  better  for  his  fresh,  bright 
words;  and  felt  I  was  a  boy  again  paddling 
about  in  fraternal  love.  It  is  winsome  in  a 
boy's  heart.  It  links  him  to  his  little  broth, 
er's  griefs  and  joys,  so  he  helps  him  carry 
his  burdens,  lifts  him  over  the  fence  too  high 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        267 

for  him,  across  the  stream  too  broad  for  him, 
shelters  him  from  the  tyranny  of  big  boys, 
shares  with  him  his  fruits,  fish-hooks,  and 
marbles;  lets  him  roll  his  hoop,  spin  his  top, 
bounce  his  ball,  prance  his  hoop-horse,  play 
his  Jew's-harp,  June  his  June-bug;  and  when 
he  falls  and  hurts  himself,  helps  him  up,  say 
ing:  "Never  mind  little  brother,  you'll  be 
well  to-morrow,  and  we'll  have  a  jolly  time 
together" 


208        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

BOLLS  OF  BERYL  AND  GOLD. 

IM  KNIGHT  could  barely  have 
reached  his  valley  home  ere  the 
storm  fell  so  low  around  us  that 
snow-cloud  seemed  to  touch  snow 
bank,  and  to  chock  down  togeth 
er  into  the  gorge,  and  to  mourn  the  fall  of  a 
frantic  uproar  of  whirring,  whizzing  wails. 
Much  of  the  snow  melted  as  it  fell,  or  was 
mingled  with  rain,  so  each  ravine  flowed  down 
torrents  to  the  chasm  at  our  feet,  and  the  riv 
ulet  fretted  and  foamed  along  its  icy  channel 
till  it  became  an  angry  river,  uprooting  trees, 
knocking  the  clay  props  from  under  granite 
masses,  and  rolling  them  along  its  ragged 
course,  till  the  grinding  of  the  rocks,  the 
splash  and  rumble  of  the  floods,  and  the  ma 
jestic  call  of  storm  to  storm  were  a  grand 
chant  that  made  the  awful  jungle  appear  like 
a  temple  of  ice  being  set  apart  to  the  service 
of  Him  who  "giveth  snow  like  wool,  scattereth 
the  hoar-frost  like  ashes,  casteth  forth  his  ico 
like  morsels,  sendeth  out  his  word  and  melteth 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        269 

them,  causeth  the  wind  to  blow,  and  the  waters 
to  flow."  By  sundown  the  river  had  lifted  its 
turbulent  floods  within  a  dozen  feet  of  the 
plateau,  and  uprooted  trees,  whirling  on  the 
stream,  threw  out  their  arms  and  tore  the 
tough  cedars  from  the  brink  and  swung  out 
with  them  to  voyage  the  surging  waters. 
Fragments  of  flumes  shooting  by  on  the 
flashing  current  told  us  of  troubled  miners  on 
tributary  gulches,  of  hope  bereaved,  lost  in  the 
gathering  of  the  waters.  But  as  the  cold  in 
creased  we  knew  that  every  flake  was  freezing 
with  each  streamlet,  and  the  river  that  thun 
dered  against  our  bluff  had  done  its  worst. 

The  changes  in  the  tempest  were  signaled 
to  us  by  its  voices.  Whon  it  was  sleeping, 
and  only  the  air  filled  the  spaces  between  earth 
and  cloud,  only  the  voices  of  the  blood  seemed 
to  be  pouring  in  the  ear  their  softest  melodies 
as  though  with  them  were  the  quietest  strains 
of  song  that  ever  soothes  its  flow,  and  the 
purest  that  ever  chastens  its  flames;  and  a  qui 
eting  was  on  the  senses,  and  in  the  heart  too, 
how  we  couldn't  discern,  but  we  were  strange 
ly,  quietly  content. 

When  it  was  only  snowing  through  the 
spaces,  it  seemed  that  tiny  whispers,  like 
sweetest  sighs  perishing,  just  appreciable  to 


270         CALIFORNIA    GOLR-FIELD  SCENES, 

the  ear,  were  about  us,  and  a  rustling  in  the 
air,  soft  as  the  falling  of  downiest  feathers,  that 
made  the  ear  dream  that  it  heard  the  faintest 
possible  echoes  of  far-off  multitudes  of  tiniest 
wings,  removing  farther  and  farther,  coming, 
coming  nearer  and  nearer,  now  gone,  now  re 
turned,  coming,  going,  intermixing  incessantly, 
never  near  enough  to  be  distinctly  heard,  never 
far  enough  away  to  be  out  of  hearing  longer 
than  a  few  moments.  Or  when  it  was  pouring 
snow-flakes,  the  sound  was  like  one  imagines  the 
voice  of  silence  is  when  flowing  softest  through 
the  ice-bells  hanging  on  millions  of  fragile 
twigs,  making  music  so  indefinable  that  one 
might  think  it  the  notes  of  the  stars  singing, 
straying  too  far  away,  together  fading  into 
nothing. 

When  it  displaced  the  snow  with  sleet,  there 
was  a  clear,  whizzy  ringing  in  the  air  distinct 
ly  heard,  yet  the  tiniest  and  most  musical 
ringing  notes  the  ear  can  discern,  and  a  mer 
ry  little  shattering  above  and  all  about  that 
makes  the  nerves  freshen  with  the  thought 
that  the  ringing  sleet  is  a  company  of  head 
long  fledgeling  boys  coming  to  a  merry-inak- 
ing  with  the  snow-flakes,  that  are  girls.  And, 
too,  now  and  then  there  is  a  gliding  and  a  rat 
tling  that  make  us  think  the  merry  imps  are 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES         271 

leaping  down  off  the  twigs,  or  climbing  out 
upon  them  to  shake  the  icicles  off  to  hear  them 
crash,  and  see  them  skate  down  the  hills. 

When  the  tempest  filled  the  spaces  with  rain 
we  knew  it  by  the  splash.  When  it  broke  into 
storms,  the  winds  fly  and  growl  and  howl  and 
whistle  and  dance  and  rush,  and  the  clouds  are 
seemingly  breaking  into  one  another's  muni 
tions  of  rain  and  ice,  carrying  each  other  by 
storm;  the  forest  mourns,  the  rocks  scream, 
the  gorges  roar,  the  mountains  bellow,  a  tre 
mor  shakes  the  ground,  limbs  crack  and  fly 
from  their  places,  and  forest-kings  fall  along 
the  earth  with  lumbering  sounds  like  signal- 
guns  of  distress  at  sea,  and  all  is  commotion 
without  and  awe  within. 

All  night  long  beast  signaled  beast  in  the 
elemental  melee;  and  once  a  brave  push  was 
made  against  our  picket  door,  answered  by  a 
flight  of  bullets  through  the  cracks,  and  the 
animal  leaped  wildly  away  and  plunged,  we 
knew  by  the  splashing  thud,  out  into  the  tu 
multuous  river,  and  we  heard  it  buffeting  the 
contrary  currents,  then  fiercely  roar  far  down 
on  the  other  side. 

The  next  morning  a  band  of  Indians  strag 
gled  near  us,  picking  their  way  southward. 
We  beckoned  them  to  the  camp  and  gave  them 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


much  of  the  venison  that  Jim  had  salted  down 
for  us;  and  as  one  gathered  a  firebrand  and 
moved  on,  they  defiled  after  him,  stolidly  bear 
ing  the  pieces  of  flesh  to  a  sheltered  dell. 
Soon,  by  the  columns  of  smoke  and  bursts  of 
whoop  and  laughter,  we  knew  they  were  in 
high  carnival,  though  the  snowy  storm  beat 
upon  them. 

They  had  barely  feasted  and  skirrecl  across 
the  spur  next  them  when  a  few  old  men  and 
women  and  little  children  came  on  tottering 
step,  following  in  their  trail.  Maine  feasted 
them  upon  remnants  of  bread  and  venison  that 
had  been  accumulating  for  several  days,  made 
them  a  bucket  of  coffee,  loaded  them  with 
fresh  meat,  and  they  tottered  out  into  the  tem 
pest  again.  He  stood  a  long  while  watching 
their  old  bare  heads,  grizzled  by  age  and  white 
with  snow,  with  the  tripping  children  bare  of 
clothing,  tramping  by  their  side.  When  he 
turned  into  the  tent,  I  said:  "If  those  old 
foresters  were  Southern  slaves,  such  weather 
as  this  they  would  be  warmly  clad,  in  good 
cabins,  round  a  big  fire  broiling  bacon, 
cooking  ash-cakes  arid  potatoes  and  that 
best  of  dishes,  lye-hominy,  laughing,  sing 
ing,  happy;  and  the  lads  and  lasses,  gone 
on  before,  would  be  doing  likewise,  spicing 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        273 

the  programme  by  snugly  courting.  Which 
had  you  rather  be,  a  Southern  darky  or  one  of 
them?" 

"I  ca'c'late,"  he  replied,  "the  darky  is  the 
most  comfortable;  but  I  'd  rather  be  one  of 
them,  free  to  defy  the  storm  when  too  thriftless 
to  own  a  shelter  to  warm  in  out  of  it." 

In  the  meanwhile  the  Indian  is  passing  on, 
as  he  has  been  for  centuries — passing  from  sea 
to  sea,  through  all  climes,  through  forests  and 
mountains  and  delightful  valleys,  the  child  of 
the  jungle,  in  savagery  still,  fleeing  civiliza 
tion,  unblessed  by  its  virtues,  cursed  by  its 
vices — passing  on  till  there  is  no  region  beyond 
into  which  he  may  pass. 

We  have  founded  temples  and  schools  upon 
the  mounds  of  his  storied  dead,  tamed  his 
lakes  and  rivers  and  wilds  with  steam,  and 
hustled  him  out  of  his  valleys  and  fastnesses 
with  our  industries.  We  need  and  will  have 
his  whole  domain  for  good  uses,  are  bound  to 
light  up  its  recesses  with  electricity  so  riot  a 
recess  can  he  hide  in;  and  our  roving  families 
kill  the  grizzly  because  he  kills  their  stock  and 
their  children,  and  will  kill  him  for  the  same 
reason.  What  shall  we  do  with  him?  Dis 
crown  him  for  his  own  good,  and  for  ours  as 
well;  make  a  citizen  of  him,  give  him  the  bal- 
18 


274        CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

lot,  make  him  subject  to  the  laws  to  which  we 
are  subjected;  and  he  will  be  still  long  enough 
to  be  civilized. 

About  three  o'clock  one  afternoon  we  were 
startled,  while  standing  on  the  bluff  in  front 
of  the  camp,  by  a  volley  of  icicles  rattling 
down  the  mountain  and  shivering  to  pieces 
around  us.  We  watched  up  the  height  to  de 
tect  the  animal  that  had  loosened  them,  but 
all  was  quiet  for  a  minute  or  two.  Then  other 
icicles  came  rushing  down  from  a  projecting 
snow-bank  a  thousand  yards  from  us,  and  near 
ly  twice  as  many  feet  above  us,  and  Maine 
saying,  "Sleet  nielting  this  sunny  weather," 
we  turned  to  discuss  our  claim  again.  But  a 
minute  later,  an  awful,  grating,  roaring,  hiss 
ing,  flitting  sound  quickly  drew  our  eyes  crag- 
ward  to  see  a  mountain  of  snow,  limbs,  and 
rocks,  like  a  rnonster  wave  of  white  lightning 
and  furious  thunders,  bounding  down  upon  us. 
We  fled  like  arrows  beneath  our  rock  to  avoid 
the  avalanche.  It  swept  athwart  our  rock- 
roofed  room,  and  buried  itself  in  the  chasm 
below  with  a  horrible  roar,  having  torn  away 
most  of  our  little  plateau.  Its  white  race 
track  was  about  three  hundred  feet  wide.  As 
it  rushed  over  our  rock-roof  its  sound  was  un 
utterably  grating,  quick^  fierce,  stunning,  like 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         275 

the  irking  roar  of  a  thousand  steamers  vying 
in  letting  off  steam  together. 

We  were  prone  upon  the  clay  floor,  faces  in 
our  palms,  when  it  passed  over  us,  some  im 
pulse  we  noted  not  having  cast  us  down  so, 
when  we  entered  beneath  the  rocks.  When 
he  sat  up,  the  first  words  Maine  uttered  were: 
"Sakes  alive!  Whew!"  To  which  I  replied: 
"Sh— ,  sh— ,  shucks!" 

Now  and  then  till  sundown  snow-scales  were 
shaken  from  the  locks  of  the  crags  tumbling 
toward  the  chasm,  and,  however  small  when 
first  discovered  coming  down  the  mountain, 
wound  about  themselves  icicles  and  soft  snow 
till  they  were  large  as  cabins.  Many  of  them 
butted  their  brains  out  against  the  trees  in  the 
descent,  breaking  on  to  the  gorge  in  many 
fragment,  like  mad  children  of  the  avalanche 
bounding  to  their  mother  on  her  chasmy  bed. 
The  winds  rose  after  night-fall  and  beat  against 
the  mountains,  and  packed  with  its  millions  of 
blows  the  snow-banks  hard  again,  and  chilled 
them  there  with  freezing  blasts. 

When  the  spring  thaw  came,  it  was  charm 
ing  to  dwell  in  this  city  of  snow.  Bursting 
from  under  its  gleamy  minarets  and  streets  of 
ice,  many  water-spouts  jetted  crystal  rills  into 
the  rivulet,  till  tower  after  tower  melted  down, 


27G         CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

palaces  fell  in,  cottages  crumbled  and,  with  tlie 
icy  pavements,  flowed  away,  bearing  to  the 
dwellers  in  the  valleys  the  refreshing  snow- 
floods.  The  sides  of  the  mountains  more  and 
more  looked  like  patch-work — here  a  space  of 
white,  there  of  dark,  yonder  of  green,  and  in 
termingled  stretches  of  flowers.  For  flowers 
and  green  grasses  often  kissed  the  snow-circles, 
and  green  leaves  fluttered  above  it,  till  in  the 
July  days  the  earth-border  reached  from  the 
placer  of  toil  to  old  "Winter's  palace  on  the 
peak.  And  soon  the  sunbeams  up  there  print 
ing  leaves  and  twiggy  shadows  on  its  weep 
ing  face,  it  melted  away  in  their  warm  caress 
es,  and,  like  Aaron's  golden  calf,  turned  to 
dust;  it  was  "strewed  upon  the  water,"  and 
the  tribes  "  drink  of  it." 

In  August  our  rich  lead  was  lost  beyond 
tracing.  We  had,  however,  made  a  "  pile  "  of 
many  ounces  of  virgin  gold;  and  Maine  de 
parted  for  the  Atlantic  States;  and  as  the 
"  tiredness,"  of  which  my  first  gold-field  part 
ner  so  often  lectured,  clung  to  me  still,  I  con 
cluded  to  visit  among  the  valleys  to  breathe 
awhile  their  softer  airs,  and  enjoy  their  milk 
and  honey  and  fruits  and  restf ulness. 

I  left  the  stage  at  the  Mokelumne  River  to 
strike  across  the  plains  to  the  Calaveras  Valley, 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  ZCEXES.        277 

about  sixteen  miles  distant.  The  stroll  was  n 
joy  to  me.  The  dust  of  the  beaten  road,  the 
clatter  of  coach  and  team  and  passengers  were 
an  annoyance.  They  were  gone;  and  walking 
across  the  brown  plains  among  scattered  herds 
and  flocks,  and  humming  bees,  and  leaping  rab 
bits,  brought  me  nearer  home  than  I  had  been 
for  many  months,  even  in  scenic  associations. 
Night  came  on  before  I  could  get  to  the  ranch 
where  an  old  friend  dwelt.  The  stars  shone 
merrily,  however,  and  the  moon  flooded  my 
pathless  route  as  I  neared  the  blue  belt  of 
timber  that  marked  the  course  of  the  little 
winding  river  that  named  the  valley.  Bancroft  I  ibrary 

In  crossing  a  low  roll  of  knolls,  I  beheld  in 
the  distance  many  lights  like  spectral  stars 
grouped  near  the  ground,  arched  by  a  leafy 
sea  of  green  at  rest  in  some  wide-boughed 
trees.  They  laughed  in  my  face,  whirled 
round,  moved  to  and  fro,  intermingled  as  if 
whispering  together,  stood  still  stretching 
their  eyes  at  me  as  if  wondering  why  I  stopped 
on  the  brown  turf  watching  them  before  pass 
ing  down  the  knoll ;  and  the  f  oliaged  dome  and 
its  branchy,  angulated  rafters  tossed  about  in 
a  silvery  illumination  as  breezes  shook  them 
above  the  solitary  aisles  of  the  strange  tem 
ple.  It  was  nothing  to  me,  whatever  it  was,  I 


278         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 


thought,  and  journeyed  on  among  the  dips  and 
rises  of  the  plain.  But  presently  in  a  little 
vale,  still  shut  in  from  the  lights,  I  was  arrest 
ed  by  song  as  of  many  voices,  and  was  spelled 
to  the  spot.  It  chimed  in  the  air,  paused  at 
my  feet,  rippled  through  my  hair,  touched  my 
pack  till  it  was.  light  as  a  feather,  echoed  on 
my  cheeks,  whispered  in  my  ears,  lodged  on  my 
breast,  got  into  my  heart,  and  out  in  tears  at 
my  eyes;  and  scaling  the  knoll  I  saw  that  the 
temple  of  leaves  had  become  a  temple  of  God 
where  a  thousand  worshipers  were  praising 
him,  at  a  California  camp-meeting.  Involun 
tarily  thither  I  went. 

The  clear  heavens,  that  autumnal  night, 
were  dressed  in  silvery  tissue  over  azure  skirts 
clustered  with  stars;  and  dark-eyed  earth  lay 
marveling  at  their  beauty.  Zephyr's  step  was 
muffled,  and  every  few  minutes  she  sighed  up 
to  the  skies,  and,  invisible,  flitted  here  and 
there  among  the  worshipers,  and  whispered  to 
the  green  leaves  above  them.  And  the  silent 
company's  eyes  looked  like  spirits  hearkening 
for  heavenly  signs,  as  they  intently  fastened 
upon  the  minister.  He  spoke  of  the  ruin  sin 
brings  to  persons  and  peoples,  its  stains  indel 
ible  to  all  except  Christ's  blood;  how  lovingly 
he  would  save  us,  and  surely,  only  if  we  would 


CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.         279 

come  to  him.  Come  all;  come  now;  trust,  obey. 
The  worst  need  not  hesitate;  he  died  for  the 
chief  of  sinners,  died  that  we  might  not  per 
ish,  but  might  have  life.  The  "  pearl  of  great 
price  " — everybody's,  yours;  brighter  than  gold 
en  ore — saving  love!  it  will  make  you  happy 
here,  hereafter. 

The  hush  upon  the  congregation  had  been 
awesome,  and  many  seemed  to  be  in  the  thrall 
of  a  wand,  at  whose  touch  the  gold-phantom's 
charm  dissolved,  and  left  them  dreaming  of 
the  "gold  tried  in  the  fire,"  resolved  in  all 
their  seeking  to  seek  that.  As  the  service 
closed,  a  person  whom  I  had  not  noticed,  lean 
ing  against  the  same  tree  with  me,  murmured: 
"  Simple,  clear,  sensible,  persuasive.  If  Leina 
had  been  here  she  would  have  enjoyed  it;  I 
shall  rehearse  it  to  her." 

I  said  nothing,  got  more  in  the  shadow;  but 
remembering  that  he  had  never  seen  me  ex 
cept  in  miner's  costume,  and  not  likely  to  rec 
ognize  me  in  my  cloth  suit,  I  ceased  to  fear 
his  eyes  much,  but  was  careful  that  he  should 
not  hear  my  voice.  I  saw  him  where,  among 
many,  he  disposed  himself  to  sleep  on  the 
thick  wheat-straw  near  the  stand,  and,  as  the 
lights  were  extinguished,  had  no  fear  of  his 
recognition  as  I  spread  my  blanket  in  a  few 


280        CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

feet  of  him  among  the  sleepers.  I  imitated 
the  others  who  had  made  pillows  of  their  boots 
and  coats,  lay  on  one  blanket  and  covered  with 
another;  and  was  determined  to  be  known  to 
him  in  the  morning.  Presently  he  said,  ad 
dressing  no  one  in  particular:  "I  have  some 
where  in  the  mines,  if  he  's  not  dead,  a  friend 
called  Quien  Sabe.  Have  any  of  you  ever 
met  him?" 

"No,"  replied  several,  "not  by  that  name." 

"Where  did  he  mine,  and  what  his  appear 
ance?"  asked  one. 

"At  such  and  such  places,"  he  answered; 
"and  he  was  a  black-headed,  dark-skinned, 
rather  weak-looking  person — weak  in  the  head, 
I  mean.  I  say  'mined;'  he  never  did  mine 
much  himself.  He  always  had  partners  that 
did  the  work,  while  he  played  treasurer,  ac 
countant,  and  the  like.  He  used  to  be  my 
partner.  I  want  to  find  him,  now  I  have  got 
back  again  from  the  States." 

"To  go  partnership  again?"  queried  one. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "no;  but  I  want  to  be  with 
him  awhile.  He  always  needed  a  guardian  bad 
as  a  boy  does.  I  heard  he  was  killed  by  an  av 
alanche.  It  is  true,  I  fear;  for  if  he  saw  it 
coming,  he  was  so  absorbed  in  admiring  its 
noise  and  bounds  he  didn't  have  the  sense  to 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        281 

get  out  of  its  way.  I  have  written  and  in 
quired  in  every  direction,  and  I'm  now  go 
ing  to  the  northern  mines  to  seek  him;  for 
Leina  told  me  to  go,  or  she,  or  both  of  us, 
would  die  of  nervousness." 

"  Yes,"  said  one,  "  you  have  asked  me  about 
him  four  or  five  times  since  sundown.  You 
may  as  well  be  seeking  a  particular  quail  in  a 
chapparal  full  of  'em  as  to  seek  a  man  in  the 
mines  and  not  know  just  where  he  is." 

"I  know  it,"  said  Tom,  "  'specially  when  he's 
dead,  as  Quien  certainly  is.  A  miner  told  me 
out  at  the  store  if  I  'd  go  to  the  d — 1  I  should 
find  him  sooner  than  to  hunt  him  anywhere 
else;  that,  no  doubt,  he  was  toasting  now  down 
below,  or  words  to  that  effect.  And  I  shall 
quit  the  hunt — he's  dead,  no  doubt,  if  not 
worse." 

I  was  tired  of  it  by  this  time,  and  sat  up  in 
my  shirt-sleeves  in  a  position  where  his  eyes 
would  rest  upon  me,  and  said,  "Pike,"  and 
struck  a  match.  He  leaped  about  three  feet 
straight  up,  how  I  can't  understand,  caught 
half-bent  on  his  feet,  and  with  a  hand  on  each 
knee  gazed  into  my  face,  and  exclaimed:  "My 
heavens,  Quien!  is  it  you?  And  not  dead!" 

"Nor  at  the  d — 1,  either,"  I  said,  "unless  you 
and  he  are  the  same.  Who  said  I  was  dead?  " 


282         CALIFORNIA    GOLD-FIELD  SCENES. 

"  Wyche,"  lie  answered. 

"Is  Wyche  in  New  York?" 

"No,"  he  replied,  "he's  in  Mexico;  but  he 
stopped  at  the  ranch  in  Los  Angeles  several 
weeks  ago  on  his  way  there." 

"Tom,"  I  queried,  "you  haven't  settled  in 
California  after  breathing  out  such  gloomy  ad 
jectives  against  it  as  you  did  that  day  in  the 
foot-hill  mines?" 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  "I  have,  and  forever, 
in  'the  Valley  of  the  Angels,'  and  I  have  a 
model  farm,  and  library,  and  some  —  goats. 
And  you  must  go  eat  grapes  and  oranges  with 
Leina  and  the  children.  They  are  dying  to 
see  you — told  me  not  to  come  back  without 
you,  Quien.  They  have  made  me  tell  more 
stories  about  you  than  ever  Robinson  Crusoe 
invented ;  and  I  am  seeking  you  more  in  self- 
defense  than  for  friendship's  sake." 

And  next  day  we  were  bounding  southward 
on  stage  and  wave.  His  farming  was  success 
ful,  for  though  the  laborers  listened  to  Tom's 
directions,  I  noticed  they  did  contrary  to  them. 

Albeit  the  ranch  was  a  model  one.  For  nat 
ure  here  had  unrolled  a  valley  like  a  rare 
variegated  carpet,  fitted  around  little  hills, 
sprinkled  it  with  flowers  and  rich  grasses;  and 
art  had  grouped  a  villa  of  cozy  cottages  upon 


CALIFORNIA   GOLD-FIELD  SCENES.        283 

a  bright  knoll  in  an  orange  and  lemon  grove 
whose  green  and  yellow  orbs,  some  smaller, 
some  larger,  were  like  bolls  of  beryl  and  gold 
among  the  green  leaves  and  white  blossoms; 
and  flanked  it  here  and  there  with  figs  and 
grapes  in  fruitful  bowers  and  borders.  The 
crisp  sunshine,  the  breezes  from  the  hidden 
sea,  the  voluptuous  atmospheric  sensations  and 
aspects,  imparted  to  every  object  a  charm  that 
is  surely  seen  nowhere  else.  Within  doors 
love's  trustful  peace  dwelt.  The  children,  the 
dogs,  the  cats,  and  birds  were  at  home.  The 
scattered  herds  and  flocks,  flecking  the  land 
scape,  knew  Tom's  call,  and  ran  to  him  on 
sight  as  assured  of  his  friendship.  And  Leina, 
unconscious  of  the  guide  and  guard  she  was 
to  him,  was  cheerful  and  reposeful  in  his  pres 
ence,  like  a  glorious  flower  softly  reveling  in 
caressing  sunshine,  tinting  its  cheeks,  touching 
their  graces  with  freshness  and  fragrance  ev 
ermore. 


